


Splatter

by Violetlyvanilla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, BAMF Cas, Buddy Cops, Cas being a weirdo and a little shit apparently, Climate change sci fi, Complete, Creature Castiel, Creature Dean, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fantasy, Gentle Dom Castiel, Human Castiel, Human Dean, M/M, Mermen AU, Past Megstiel, Pining, Plot Twist, Politics crept in i’m sorry, Soulmate AU, Strategic Cas, UST, i might like cas too much, royalty in disguise, sort of law enforcement au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-06-23 07:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 90,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15601146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetlyvanilla/pseuds/Violetlyvanilla
Summary: A Destiel x Splash merman AUDean is supposed to be competing for the hand of some high up Mer royalty, but he only has eyes for Novak, a merman he is supposed to defeat. If Dean doesn’t end up getting killed in this gruelling Mer Bachlorette meets Hunger Games circus, he might finally work out why the mysterious Novak infuriates him to the core.Castiel has a mission so critical that he must cast all his personal needs aside. Shame he finds himself hopelessly drawn to the utterly clueless Dean Wincheer. His people expects a spectacular royal wedding and a public consumation, but Castiel isn’t sure Dean would ever get over his human pejudices.





	1. The Interpreter

Weirdly, Dean noticed the interpreter before anyone else in the room. There was plenty of to look at. Benny, for instance, was as wide-eyed as he'd never been in his twenty years as a part of the West Coast police force. They were in the middle of a demonstration about how any Mer could be picked up upon entry across the coastal boarders by their department but Dean kept finding himself going back to staring at the man in the back corner of the room. He looked pretty drab next to the VIPs in their luminescent finery, with their faces painted neon shades. This guy was about Dean's age, maybe a few years older, in a plain black suit and white shirt. His leather shoes were scuffed, showing plenty of wear on the heels. The only colourful thing on him was his cobalt blue tie but it wasn't even a catchy shade of blue. At least not in comparison with his eyes. Those damned eyes were mesmerising though and Dean could throw a lot of adjectives at them but when it came down to it the only word that fits is 'ocean'. The guy wasn't translating at the moment, so he was just standing there with his arms folded. 

Apparently a visit to the M.A.P.S. checkpoint was a last minute agenda switch for the Mer dignitaries and Bobby had looked like he'd swallowed a mouthful of puffer fish when he found out. They were already short staffed with the current influx, there wasn't any time for 'kissing fins' as Bobby termed it. It was probably not a politically correct statement for the joint chief of the terrestrial and marine police department to make, but it was indicative of Bobby's general disregard for diplomacy. So here they were, showing off the new Marine Affliliated Police Squad security gates to the Mer, which was ironic because the gates were designed to exclude them from the city. Or at least the ones without diplomatic passports. 

"They are solar powered and continuously spray sea water. Anyone who comes through gets wet." Bobby explained ineffectively. The contraption had been designed by the university's science team and was far more sophisticated than Bobby's quick summary. 

A vividly pale female with aquamarine eyes and glossy dark hair moved her hands around then inclined her head towards the interpreter. 

"It's a turnstile with hoses attached?" 

Dean was sure there was the faintest smirk at the corner of the interpreter's mouth. Dean bristled, his brother Sam had been on the Stanford University design team, however reluctantly. 

Bobby cleared his throat, a faint blush on his cheeks and gave Dean the signal to open the seawall. 

Dean and Benny keyed their security codes into the computer. Garth at the control console waited for the computer authorisation and proceeded to open the gate. 

"At least two senior officers need to personally authorise every opening. These are our most capable, experienced and well trained officers. Benny Lafitte has been a part of the police force for twenty years, working narcotics and organised crime. Dean Winchester is our detection specialist, he's the best we got."

Dean watched with interest as Blue Eyes went to work, moving his arms and hands around with surprising elegance as he signed Bobby's words for the high ranking diplomats in attendance. Dean found himself distracted by the flicks of strong wrists and the most perfectly tapered fingertips he had ever encountered. Then Dean watched aghast as the interpreter pointed towards him with those gorgeous fingers and mouthed aloud "dick-tection", smiling coyly as he put on the strange little accent for the benefit of his listeners. Dean was all worked up already and they had not even exchanged words. 

The humming of the gates opening in the recurved seawall sobered Dean's thoughts. This was a part of his job that he found difficult. First there was overwhelmingly bright sunlight. Dean put on his aviators and let his eyes adjust slowly. On the other side of the wall, the ground stretched out in soft white sand and beyond that was the blindingly sunny sea, dotted by passenger ships. The waves were only moderate, swelling into loose white caps far off in the horizon. Dean hated the sight of the ocean, he'd never done well near bodies of water and couldn't swim to save his own life, which he gets is kind of ironic given the little Marine insignia on his leather jacket. After a moment the new arrivals stepped out of the shadow of the wall and began to trickle through the open gate. There was about fifty, some of them looking smaller than the others, though Dean knew it was unlikely that there would be any juveniles. As each arrival proceeded through the gate they were soaked in sea water. Some instantly turned, plowing forward gracelessly as their legs morphed into tails. The wet polished concrete allowed them to slide into the waiting pool. Those who didn't change queued up in the customs line. 

"Your set up is very basic." 

Dean found himself face to face with the interpreter while the guests watched the demonstration. 

"I didn't see anyone talk to you. Who you translating for?" 

"It's entirely my own opinion," the man gave a polite nod but his expression was disdainful. 

Dean pursed his lips and refrained from calling the guy out but his eyes dipped to the plastic visitor's pass hung around the guy's neck. 

"Look Jimmy, let's just get through the awkward tour part and save the small talk for the soiree." 

"I prefer Mr Novak." 

"I prefer someone giving me a challenging look like that and asking me to call them Mister sometimes, but not at work okay?" 

That got a startled blink out of the guy, it was Dean's turn to smirk. 

Over on the other side of the room the Mer lady in the most amount of volumous robes, was wavering her arms around frantically. Jimmy, no, Mr Novak, rolled his eyes and waved back in decidedly annoyed body language. 

"Hey I think I speak Pisces," Dean muttered to Benny out of the corner of his mouth. "She's saying 'I don't pay you to flirt' and he's saying 'I'm on my break'." 

Benny chuckled but he tapped Dean in the side of his arm in warning: "Dean, didn't you check your email? They are not just any Mer, they are royals." 

"The Mer have a very strict social hierarchy," Novak turned back to Dean, clearing having been listening in. "These folks are top of the reef." 

"We don't have royalty in America, unless you count the Carters," Dean said flippantly. "What are they royal at? Wearing pearls and swimming around?" 

"That's a very stereotypical description and not at all accurate," Novak arched his eyebrow again. Dean really wished he'd stop doing that, it was distracting. 

"Look I'd love to sit and chat but I need to go and review the customs line. Sometimes folk like to miss quarantine." 

"That's your job, to pick out the Mer from the humans?" 

"I pick out the people who look nervous," Dean corrected. "And then I work out what they are trying to hide." 

Novak followed Dean to the lineup, completely ignoring the increased gesturing from the guests. He was probably the worst interpreter Dean had ever met. Not that he had met many, those people who can communicate with the Mer were in a lot of demand, given the state of things around the world currently. 

"So how'd you end up speaking their language?" Dean asked out of curiosity. 

"I grew up at sea, on an exploration vessel," Castiel said simply. 

"You're not part Piscean?" Dean scratched the back of his head. "Cause the eyes." 

"I get asked that sometimes. What do you think of my eyes Dean Winchester?" 

Dean struggled to find the words. "They're all right." 

Castiel grinned and turned to inspect the huge lobster a passenger was carrying, touching one claw and smelling his finger with intrigue. Then he licked it clean. Dean shuddered, Benny gave him a funny look. Dean said something about unsanitary habits and honed in on a guy who was standing in line in a business suit. He was about two heads taller than Dean, staring resolutely ahead. 

"Hey, buddy, can I run a security check on you?" Dean tapped him on the elbow. The man turned grey eyes on him and nodded. "So you speak English?" 

"Yes," he answered in a gruff voice. There was a very slight accent, which might have passed for Canadian. 

"Look, I'm allowed to induce your morph using any of these methods," Dean pointed towards an information poster on a pillar. "Do you want to consult the pamphlet before I employ the methods at my disposal or would you kindly show us your tail? I can get a modesty towel for you if you'll take off your pants." 

"I refuse, I am human." The guy waved around a passport. 

"Benny!" Dean called. Benny came over with a supply trolley. Dean snapped on some rubber gloves and dipped his hand into some algae gel. 

"May I?" Dean lifted his hand to the man's neck and gently massaged. 

The guy froze completely, his body stiffening and he leaned imperceptibly into Dean's touch. Novak let out a disdainful chuckle. The suspected Merman snapped his eyes open and cleared his throat, his cheeks stained. 

Dean opened his mouth and made a sighing noise. A bead of sweat ran down the traveler's nose. Then Dean wiggled his fingers and pressed on the tendon in his neck. 

With a grunt and a faint pop, slits opened up in the guy's neck, oozing an oily liquid. 

"I think you better stop before Gadreel splits his pants," Novak said helpfully. "It's already embarrassing to be excreting gill juice in a public examination." 

Dean took a step away and respectfully folded his hands behind his back. 

"He used a Siren call," Gadreel said, muscled arms bulging dangerously. "That's just fighting dirty. I wish to defeat this human in a battle of strength to avenge this breach of decorum."

"I saw him first," Novak said haughtily. "Get in line if you want a piece of Dean." 

Gadreel's eyes widened, he opened his mouth as if to ask something, then ducked his head and walked towards the Mer group. The female who Dean had thought was the leader of the Mer royals came over and gave Dean an assessing look. Up close she looked more serious than her elaborate dress and vivid makeup suggested from a distance. She turned intelligent eyes on him and signalled to Novak rapidly with her fingers. 

"Hannah says they are doing a test, there are more Mer pretending to be human here. Can you find them all?" 

"Don't need to, my colleague Benny has someone for us." 

Benny walked a beautiful woman towards them. 

"It's okay Andrea, if it's any consolation, it was your stunning beauty that gave you away." Benny said shyly. 

The lady was slim and pale as the Mer tended to be, she had large eyes and gloriously beautiful features. Her hair though pinned back glowed with shades of caramel and golden sand. Andrea came to a halt when she saw Hannah, she fell forward into a slump at Novak's feet. 

"I'm sorry your Highness, I was not aware you would be here. I was trying to seek refuge. I didn't want to go to the Quarantine Quarters, I've heard tales of indecency and danger there." 

"You must rise and face the consequences of your action," Hannah said quickly. 

Andrea was still on the ground, looking up with awe at the faces around her. "Forgive me." 

"You're on the terrestrial side of the wall now, so the laws of the sea don't apply to you," Novak said with surprising kindness and helped her up. 

Andrea's eyes glimmered with tears when he touched her. Dean was surprised that Novak had made contact with her without checking in first, the Mer were notorious for not liking to be touched socially. He guessed that under the ocean, with all that water to swim around in, getting close enough to touch implied kinship and trust. 

"What is her punishment?" 

"It's a first offence so that's at the discretion of the reporting officer," Bobby said. "Benny?" 

"I'm afraid it's a fine. I'll write you a ticket, you can pay in instalments once you've settled in. Just come with me to the pool now," Benny was using his most polite and friendly voice. "The quarantine zone is not that bad really, there is law and order there, Dean and I patrol it ourselves sometimes." 

Dean shot Benny a look, a fine for an attempted illegal crossing was ridiculously light, but he wasn't about to rat his friend out. "Benny'll keep an eye on ya." 

"Well done, officers," Novak said as the visitors began to clap their hands with lukewarm applause. 

"She's not one of yours, that much she made clear," Bobby murmured, eyes sliding over to Dean. Dean gave a small nod. 

"Can I borrow you for a moment, Novak? Away from your clients?" Dean asked with a sweet smile. 

Novak stepped forward, his eyes assessing. 

"Please take a look at the information booklet while I sanitise and glove up," Dean said and grinned wider as Novak registered what he had said. 

"Would it be impolite to protest that I am a simple mariner and interpreter?" 

Dean shrugged and danced his fingers over the instruments on his tray. "Most folk put a wax coating on their legs to get around the sea water spray. That's why the jets are so strong. It's also to do with their stamina and will power. A strong Mer can hold off the morph for a good few minutes." 

"There are other ways to test stamina and will power, if you don't mind my saying so," Novak said suggestively. 

"Nothing that your or I can do in front of Bobby and Benny," Dean told him cheerfully. 

Bobby looked uncomfortable. "You sure about this Dean? Word is, he's a pretty popular guy with the tail crew."

"Bobby, we don't ever question Dean's gut," Benny said. He was a good partner. 

Everything had stopped around them. At the customs desk, Jody had stopped stamping passports. Garth at the closure station muted the soft bleep of the alarm that said the wall closing was complete without moving his eyes away from Dean and Novak or closing his mouth. The Mer guests were all looking on, twisting their long sleeves nervously, Hannah, the Mer princess or whoever she was, was biting her bottom lip so hard it was turning crimson. 

"Get the privacy screen up, Novak here might pop," Dean said with a wink at his suspect. "Or whatever your real name is." 

Novak was staring up into Dean's face the closer Dean leaned in. He was only an inch or so shorter but the height difference was emphasised by the stoop of his shoulders. Dean had to give it to the guy, he was good. For the Mer, dominance was all about size and posture. Novak didn't need to assert his physical attributes though, he had a commanding air about him without really trying. He looked like a hard nut to crack. Dean took a deep breath and went to work. Dean began to sigh softly, getting Novak warmed up with some aural stimulation. Novak's eyelashes fluttered but that was the only reaction Dean got. 

"My hands are a little cold," Dean touched a gloved finger to Novak's neck, a vein twitched in response but Dean thought that might have come from an angry clench of teeth rather than arousal. 

Dean patted and stroked, mimicking soft mating sounds. Novak held still, his brows furrowing as Dean stroked his neck. 

"Come on, people might think you don't even like me," Dean whispered as he leaned in closer, staring at the tanned skin of Novak's neck a little desperately. The skin looked completely normal, though the hair on the back of Novak's neck was definitely standing up. "Maybe you do like a warmer touch." 

Dean raised his left hand to his mouth and pulled it off with his teeth. The algae gel tasted salty as Dean licked his lips. Novak's eyes followed the movement of Dean's tongue and his pulse quickened at his throat where Dean was still gently tickling. 

"Stubborn bastard," Dean muttered, curling his left hand through Novak's feathery hair, taking care to scrape the scalp lightly. There, another eyelash flutter. Dean leaned in closer to examine the pulse at Novak's neck. 

"Are you enjoying yourself Dean?" Novak asked hoarsely. 

"Are you?" Dean tapped his thumb against Novak's pulse, cupping the shell of his ear. 

"I can see that you are," Novak's eyes flicked down. "Professional." 

Dean went bright red, that was not a customary reaction for him. These examination were awkward and he very rarely had to do them, if he thought the client he was examining was vulnerable he usually got Benny to sit them down and talk to them for a while. Work out why they were trying to pass for human then give them some concrete information about what life in the ponds really was like. That's all it took usually. It wasn't everyday that Dean was asked to perform a detection with a stubborn ass daredevil like Novak. Dean took some deep breaths and tried to focus. He needed to get a connection with Novak, that's the secret to getting a response, make a connection somehow, anyhow. Dean breathed through his nose, trying not to pant as he looked into Novak's eyes. Instantly, he felt the chemistry between them, it wasn't so much a jolt as a freaking lightning bolt. Novak's eyes darkened from clear endless blue to stormy sea and Dean just about lost his mind with frustration. 

"That all you got, Dean?" 

Dean didn't know what possessed him, sure the privacy screen was up but everybody could still see silhouettes. It was probably the teasing look in those ocean eyes, the dark flush over the high cheekbones, the shape of those full lips. Dean dove in and licked the skin. For a moment all he could taste was warm flesh and sweat and salt. Then his tongue touched something wet and sweet. Dean pulled back abruptly, eyes glued to the glistening gills that had appeared on Novak's neck. 

Dean will always be thankful for what Benny did that day. Before Novak could say anything about Dean's tongue in his gills not being on the information booklet and before Dean could freak out any more, Benny had brought out the thick decontamination hose and blasted them apart. The fresh sea water hitting them both in the chest and drenching them. To Dean's disbelief Novak remained standing, his white shirt sticking translucent to his chest, his soaked pants leaving very little to the imagination. Novak didn't tail at all. The other guests scattered, shying away from the hose since it would be completely undignified to tail out during an official function, robes or no robes. It was Donna at the control centre who turned the hose off with a press of a button. 

Novak gave Dean a reproachful glare and allowed Hannah to rush forward. They spoke rapidly to each other in gestures, Hannah looked both livid and concerned while Novak's movements were stiff and defiant. 

"We have to go now," he said at last, following Hannah and the other alarmed dignitaries to the door. 

"Wait, you can't leave like this," Dean ran to his work station and grabbed the heavy duty water proof trench coat that all the senior officers had. Dean's one was especially worn and softened with use. It had been sunbaked and salt drenched and laundered over and over. Dean thrust the coat at Novak. "Put this on before you go." 

Novak took the garment, shaking it out to examine the belt and buttons. 

"I know Merfolk like everything to be organic and flowy and this looks kind of structured, but it's quite billowy if you try it on." 

Dean was blathering now, maybe there were mind altering toxin's in Novak's gill juice. No, Dean was not gonna be thinking about that orifice on Novak in that whole new revelation like way again. Not at all. 

Novak slipped one arm into the trench coat, then the other. It immediately darkened from contact with his wet suit, but it made him look a little less naked. He stared at Dean intensely. 

"Looks good on you," Dean said feebly. 

Then the Merfolk left and Bobby began his long tirade of yelling at Dean. 

* * *


	2. The Royal

Dean spent the whole day ruminating on what had happened with the Mer delegates. According to Bobby, they told him they'd seen all they needed and skipped over the rest of the tour. Bobby was convinced that someone in the delegation had been offended but Dean was sure that Novak guy wasn't that high up on the pecking order. The official Mer government was a pretty aloof crowd and according to Sam's friend Charlie, who studied Mer Anthropology, they barely wanted to acknowledge the existence of humans. The Mer that most people were used to were the refugees who have fled various part of the world due to one natural disaster or another, sometimes they were trying to get away from their own government. All of that stuff went right over Dean's head, since all his job involved was spotting them. He had never really had much interest in the Mer, that had always been Sam's thing. The only Mer Dean could recognise by face, prior to that morning's encounter, was Anna. The poster girl of the Mer integration movement. She was the first Mer to come out to the world, having swam up to the Statue of Liberty and shown her tail on eighties television. Dean wondered whatever did happen to Anna. After making the front page of Time and telling the world about the existence of the Mer she had faded from the spotlight. Charlie believed she might have been a member of the royal family, her disappearance was something that Charlie was writing a thesis on. Thinking of Charlie, Dean checked his phone, yep they were all catching up at their usual Friday night drinking hole. He was gonna tell Charlie all about what happened, discuss why on earth some royal Merfolk would want to view the screening process and maybe pick Sam's brain on how Novak had gilled out but managed to not show his tail under a heavy duty blast of sea water. 

Benny seemed a little preoccupied when they were clocking out. Dean thought at first that he was mad about Dean's conduct with the delegation but after a while of watching Benny thoughtfully turn his t-shirt inside out and outside in three times in the locker room Dean figured Benny was daydreaming. Dean peeled off his waterproof jacket and pants, the fitted material resisting as he tugged them off, and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt. Unless they were on patrol duty, Dean didn't like to wear his uniform. There were lots of bleeding hearts out there who thought border processing was barbaric. Sam probably thought so as well, which was why he'd only helped with the design of the gates in terms of making it safe for Merfolk to tail out and not injure themselves in the process of an induced morph. Dean didn't fancy sitting in a pub being glared at by left wing Finners. Dean blushed a little at the phrase, he probably shouldn't use it, seemed kind of bigoted to call people with conviction about Mer equality a derogatory term. Sam would likely shake his head all disappointed if he ever heard Dean say such things aloud. Benny used the term though, on occasion. One time a Mer resisted going into the holding tank and was thrashing around injuring the other folk crowded in the same pool, Benny dragged him out with Dean's help and still had to get twenty stitches on his abdomen because an enraged Merman with fin spines was no easy rodeo. The ER doctor had asked if Benny was injured while 'roughing up' his 'prisoner', Benny had called her a Finner then. They had to go to a different doctor to get the stitches out. So that settles that, Dean wasn't a bigot because Benny was a good guy and he wasn't a bigot either. They had a tough job was all and someone had to do it, or they'd all be swimming with Merfolk down in the local swimming pools or something. At least that's how Dean justified it to himself. It was a respectable government job, it allowed him to live near Stanford where his brother was doing his PhD, let him work with his uncle Bobby who had raised him and he could afford to buy all the spare parts to keep his classic car purring along. 

Once they were in their street clothes, Dean didn't even have to check in with Benny about whether he wanted a drink, they just automatically hopped into Dean's Impala and drove the three blocks to The Port and pulled into the mostly vacant parking lot. It was only 5 pm, since the final gate closure was at 4.30, to ensure that the wall was up in its defensive position well before dusk. It was an unspoken rule at M.A.P.S. whoever was on gate rotation staked out the back booth closest to the bar and waited for the rest of the shift to arrive. Dean ordered some beers while Benny flipped through the bistro menu as if he'd never seen it before, something was up with him. Dean didn't pry, he'd worked with Benny long enough to know that the man will speak up when he was ready. 

"Do you think she's scared?" Benny said half way through his second beer. 

Dean sighed, long and hard. "You talking about the pretty Mer lady you pulled out of the line today?" 

"Andrea, her name is Andrea. She looked real worried when I dropped her into the pool, her eyes were so sad." 

"How can you even tell? All Mer have big beautiful sad eyes," Dean necked his bottle. He was thinking about Novak and the way he dipped and fluttered his lashes. "The things is with our job we can't get sucked into their camouflage, you've been to the training." 

"I know bud but it's hard not to think of them as human, you know, with the same feelings." 

"The Mer have lived under the sea for tens of thousands of years, far from human civilisation. They may appear human when in their terrestrial form but their instincts are far more animalistic and savage." Dean repeated the training video they'd all watched on induction. 

"It's gonna be dark soon and they'll probably send her out to the ponds on the 9 pm flush. She'll be all alone, fending for herself in the settlement." 

"Look, you want me to text Asa in compliance since he's on the settlement patrol roster tonight?" Dean wasn't a complete douche, he could tell Benny was feeling a bit down about spotting the Mermaid. "He can keep an eye on her, maybe send her to someone friendly? I know one of Sam's friends who's coming tonight is in touch with the Sea Spirits, she volunteers there sometimes, she can set fish lady up with some local help." 

Benny looked excited and relieved. "That's a grand idea Dean, I didn't think you'd know, let alone hang out with someone who volunteers for the Sea Pirates." 

"Don't call them that to her face," Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, benefits of having a Marine Biologist brother I guess. Charlie's not too bad, over excited social conscience and all." 

"I'll just call her Charlie then, she sounds like a nice girl. And as for the Mer woman I met today, call her Andrea woulda ya?" Benny requested shyly.

Dean nodded looking up with a wide grin when he spotted Sam coming in the door flanked by his college friends. Sam gave Benny and Dean hugs then introduced Charlie and Kevin. Dean had never met Kevin before, he was a serious looking guy who didn't usually drink alcohol and said that he'd only agreed to come along because his mother had suggested he 'get some life experience with ordinary people who weren't amphibious'. Dean understood from Sam's explanation that Kevin was some sort of super intelligent fish nerd who had devoted his entire existence to becoming the first Asian Mer professor with a Stanford tenure. Scary thing was, Kevin seemed so focused Dean had no doubt he would get whatever he wanted. Kevin drank craft beer and ate pizza with steely determination, intermittently copying whatever Dean was doing since it appeared he had decided Dean was the all American everyman in a bar setting. Charlie was listening carefully to Benny's description of Andrea, asking him to go into detail about the colour, length, pattern, fin webbing and scale markings of her tail. To Dean's surprise, Benny's description was long and complex, apparently he had really paid attention to her Mer appendage. Dean swallowed his pizza, he'd never been one to find Mer tails attractive. They were all scales and slimy coating, Dean thought they were a little repulsive to be honest. Then, unbidden, he wondered what Novak's tail looked like and whether he'd change his mind about finding tails gross if he saw Novak tail out in front of him. Dean definitely found himself wondering about the moment before the tail would emerge, where Novak would be discarding his pants. He'd seen enough of Novak's human shape when they were drenched to realise that had Novak been human he would have definitely been the hottest guy Dean had ever laid eyes on. Not that it mattered, Novak wasn't human so he couldn't be considered hot. Or so Dean told himself. 

Jody and Garth joined them at about 6pm, they'd drank with Sam and Charlie before and despite political differences everyone got on well enough. 

"I made a new friend tonight, she's starting work with us on Monday, came in for her orientation today and I bumped into her in the lunch room. Her name's Donna, she's cool. I told her about our post work drinks and she said she might drop by and meet the fam," Jody said with a bright smile. "So I ordered some extra garlic bread. My shout." 

Dean was munching appreciatively on greasy buttery garlicky goodness when a bouncy blonde came up to their table. "Hey Jody! Hiya officers!" 

Dean's eyebrows rose when he recognised the Finner doctor from ER. He nudged Benny so hard in the ribs the guy grunted in pain. Dean pointed at Donna, widening his eyes. Benny stood up and shook her hand. "Nice to meetchya." 

"We've met before, Benny Lafitte isn't it? I stitched up your abdomen a few months ago, how's it healing, you never did come back for the stitches to be taken out." 

Benny shrugged and smiled. "It's not bad." 

Dean whispered dramatically to Benny "It's Hanscum, the Finner doctor, what's she doing applying for a job at M.A.P.S.?" 

Since Dean was a little past his third beer, his whispering wasn't so subtle. 

"Maybe I'm here to infiltrate the government, bring it down from the inside," Donna said brightly. 

Sam snorted through his nose and Jody stared at Donna for a minute before breaking into guffaws. 

"I'm a doctor, I'll treat ya no matter what I think of you," Donna said. "You can depend on me to be professional. But yeah, I was recruited because I have a double degree in Human and Piscean Medicine. So I can render assistance to both the valiant M.A.P.S. staff and their clients." 

"Fuck, you're good," Dean said, saluting her with his beer bottle. "That how you got pass the interview?" 

"Yeah, gatekeeper, that's how I got through," she winked at him. 

"You graduated in Piscean Medicine? Did you study with Professor Shurley?" Sam asked with considerable excitement and that's how Dean lost him for the rest of the night as Sam delved deep into science talk with Donna. 

Dean ate pizza and watched his friends and new acquaintances get to know each other. He played some pool with Benny and Garth but they were all thoroughly beaten by the increasingly tipsy and ever competitive Kevin. It was shaping out to be a great night out and Dean's weekend stretched out ahead. He was gonna walk back to his apartment since he had a deal with the bar to keep his car securely locked up overnight. Sam would probably come and crash on his couch. Then in the morning they could do a workout together in the apartment complex' gym and then grab brunch. Dean was fantasising about gooey eggs and bacon on avocado when Jody suddenly went still. 

"Shit, Dean, is that who I think it is?" 

Dean followed the line of her eyes to the bar and sure enough, there were two people sitting at the bar who he recognised. The woman was less easy to spot since she had removed all her bright coloured makeup and was dressed in skinny jeans, leather boots and a fitted blouse. Hannah looked a lot smaller and human without her dignitary's robes and strands of pearls. Novak on the other hand was conspicuous in his black suit and, to Dean's surprise, he was still wearing the weather proof trench coat Dean had thrown at him. They were obviously trying to pass for human. 

Without alerting the other people at their table, Dean stood up and went up to the bar. 

"Got a permit to be out here?" Dean knew it was a dick thing to say but Novak just rubbed him up the wrong way. 

"Diplomatic immunity," Hannah replied, she was still a little intimidating without all her finery. 

Dean stared at her, she spoke English perfectly well. He recovered from shock after a moment: "Yeah, for you, but you're royalty right. Your spy isn't." 

Hannah looked irritated but Novak placed a placating hand on her forearm. Dean's eyes darted between them, they were touching each other casually, like people would. Were they related or mated or something? 

"You're right," Novak said appeasingly, standing up from the barstool he was elegantly perched on. "I do have this however." 

Dean looked down at the small card Novak flashed at him. It was issued by the United Nations, a journalist's identification card. 

"Your department is fully aware of our presence outside the settlement zone," Novak said lazily. "You really should check your work emails more often." 

"You told me we were supposed to meet important contacts here, I hope it isn't this Dean Winchester," Hannah said with a frown. "I told you it's not safe hanging around humans." 

"I take the safety of the royal line very seriously," Novak replied. "Dean is harmless." 

"Harmless? After the humiliation he visited upon us today?" 

"Hannah, he can't help himself," Novak said then dipped his head to whisper something in her ear. They really were getting very close and personal, Dean felt a strange sensation in his chest, like claws.

"Our contact is here, but since he is with friends, I decided we should be polite and wait until Sam Winchester is less engaged." 

"Wow, you're not talking to Sam, I don't trust you," Dean started to say but there was already a cheerful call of 'Jimmy Novak?' from the direction of their booth. 

Dean glared as Novak said a quiet 'You wait here Hannah' before waving at and heading over to Sam. 

"So a freaking spy," Dean hissed under his breath. "Guy's a compulsive liar." 

Hannah gave Dean a less than friendly look but chose to stay in her seat, her attention glued to Novak's movements. Seems she wasn't such a big fan of Novak socialising with humans. Maybe she was getting nervous that he was going to leave her unguarded, she sure looked agitated enough. Dean high tailed it back to the booth to make sure Novak wasn't going to poison his brother with hugs or something. 

"Dean, this is Jimmy Novak from the National Geographic, he's a fantastic nature photographer, seriously the best candid Mer photos I've ever seen," Sam said enthusiastically, clapping Novak on the back as if they'd known each other all their lives. 

"I bet," Dean wasn't surprised a Merman could get awesome Mer in the wild photos. "Photographer huh?" 

Benny and Jody looked confusedly at Dean and Novak until Novak extended his hand to them. "Hi, I'm Jimmy, nice to meet you all." 

Jody looked over to Hannah sitting at the bar with a scowl and then to Benny who raised his eyebrows and whispered "Maybe it's classified?" 

She shrugged and shook Novak's hand. 

Dean watched darkly as all the Mer experts grilled Novak for information on their field of interest, none of them seemingly suspecting that he was in fact a Mer. Jody leaned over and asked "That's the guy you got to gill out earlier today right?" 

Dean nodded, as if anyone else they'd met that day looked like that or had those eyes. 

"Guess you don't wanna out him twice in one day?" 

Dean shook his head at Benny. "I checked his clearance, he's got papers form the UN. Says he's a journalist though, maybe it's fake, they can't grant rights to Mer can they?" 

"The email was pretty specific about just keeping an eye on the delegation and letting them roam freely," Jody said. "You really should ..." 

"I know, I do read my emails, sometimes." 

"So we should just watch them," Jody concluded. 

"No trouble for Dean to keep a watch on that one," Benny murmured into his beer, smiling. Dean gave him a lethal look. 

Novak, in his Jimmy the nature photographer persona, was friendly and chatty and infinitely likeable. He passed for human well, eating cheesey margarita pizza and drinking with everyone. Dean had thought the Mer could not process alcohol but Novak seemed unaffected except for a little flush of colour on his high, chiselled, cheekbones that was very flattering to his olive complexion. Dean put his beer down on the table, he was obviously drunk to be thinking such thoughts about a Merman. He tried to picture Novak with a tail to gross himself out but it didn't work. After an hour of Novak hanging around, Dean found himself sitting quietly in a corner, mesmerised and intoxicated by the sight of him. He did notice that Hannah at the bar was getting increasingly listless, she took out her phone and spoke to someone then came over to their booth. Novak gave her a sidelong look before introducing her. 

"This is Hannah, my cousin, she's not been to L.A. before and I'm just taking her around being a bit of a tour guide," he said, smiling at Jody and Benny as if daring them to say something. Jody smiled blandly at Hannah and greeted her like the stranger she was supposed to be. 

"C...Novak, Jimmy, it's getting late, we should head back," Hannah said, tilting her head towards the door.

"Aw, don't be a wallflower, cousin, Sam was just telling me about a great gelato place that he and Dean discovered a few blocks from here. Let's go get some ice cream."

Hannah looked like she was going to argue but Novak smiled brightly up at her for a full minute and she relented. 

"He's got the princess wrapped around his little finger," Jody said when Novak and Sam lead the way out of the bar. 

That weird clawing feeling was back in Dean's chest and he found himself trailing after Novak, stepping between him and Sam. 

"Actually, I found it," Dean interjected. "The ice cream parlour. First year Sam came to Stanford and I followed him here six months later. Had to quit my job and get a new one. Moved my whole life for him."

"You love your brother," Novak said. "That's a good thing." 

"I don't need you to tell me that," Dean said reluctantly but his chest suddenly felt less constricted and a little warmer. Maybe he was catching a cold, all these weird feelings in his chest had to be from the flu or something. Maybe Novak gave him something, he really shouldn't have licked his neck, what if there were toxins in his gill juice?" 

The taste of Novak's gill juice kept coming back to haunt Dean, the sweet saltiness of it, the oily sleek feel of it. When they turned a corner and Dean found himself in the lead with Novak alone, he had to ask. 

"When I, licked you earlier, can I get sick from it?" 

"No," Novak said definitively, Dean could tell by the shortness of his response that he was hiding something. 

"Is it, uh, addictive?" 

"Only for a Mer," Novak said. "When we mate, we secrete liquid pheromones, gill excretions are an example of that. It promotes pair bonding since we are mostly monogamous for life." 

"Oh," Dean went bright red. "So I shouldn't be affected then."

"You are human, aren't you?" Novak asked.

Dean lowered his head and glared at Novak. "Born and bred in Texas. Can't have a freaking Mer questioning my American-hood."

"Don't act so insecure then, Dean," Novak said, there was no hardness to his tone though, which surprised Dean. 

Dean was sure he was the most confident guy in California, at least outwardly. Just because Novak had the big soulful eyes didn't mean he could see right through Dean's act, right? They kept walking down the boulevard, planted out with a sea of grey and purple lavender, mimicking the curves of the waves that were not blocked from sight by the distant wall that cut off all access to the coastline. The spring night air was warm and the scent of coastal rosemary wafted as they passed. 

Novak's eyes lit up when they entered the ice cream parlour, it had an array of colourful and tantalising flavours on offer and was opening late on a Friday night. A glittering rainbow soft service ice cream sign adorned the shop's rooftop, twirling and sparkling softly with fairy lights. This part of the old pier used to have views of the ocean, before the wall went up. Now it had been planted out with trees and gardens so people still came around to hangout, listen to the muffled sounds of the ocean. Dean never understood the attraction the sea held for other people, for him the sound of waves induced panicked nausea if he ever allowed himself to pay attention to it. 

Novak asked for a triple scoop, his waffle cone came over the counter piled so high that it looked like it would topple. Even Hannah ordered a small single scoop of strawberry white chocolate and closed her eyes blissfully as she sampled it with small neat licks. Novak's devouring of the humungous ice cream was practically obscene in comparison. He licked the melting drips that ran down the side of the waffle cone, sliding stickily onto his fingers and past his wrist. Dean had to look away before anyone else could notice him staring. 

"Want some?" 

Dean was startled when Novak shoved the half melted treat under his nose. Without thinking Dean dove in and bit a chunk of it, swallowing hard as the mouthful oozed down his throat. Then realised that he had probably ingested some of Novak's saliva and shuddered. What was the point of even wearing gloves at work if he was going to go around licking gills and trading spit with some Mer spy? 

Novak gave Dean a half-lidded look and simply said: "More."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the long day, or mind altering Novak toxin or whatever but Dean did exactly as Novak asked and sunk his teeth into the waffle cone, his tongue lapping against Novak's thumb. Novak's hand came to rest on the side of Dean's face, fingers curling into Dean's hairline. 

Then the flashlights went off and Hannah screeched something in Piscean and all hell broke loose.


	3. The Guest

Hannah and Novak were screeching at each other.

Dean never learnt Piscean, the Mer language sounded shrill and unearthly to his ears. It was a sort of tonal screaming that must have been designed to be heard under miles of ocean. It crawled under Dean's skin and made his flesh erupt into goosebumps. Novak's eyes were exaggeratedly wide when he vocalised, pink lips peeled back from his sharp white teeth. Dean thought that he preferred the dancing part of their language much better, but understood that verbalised Piscean was often used in cases of emergency. 

"We have to go," Novak shot over his shoulder. His hand had grasped Dean's shirt sleeve as he sprinted towards the door. 

"Why are they filming us?" 

"They're looking for the royal heir," Novak answered without providing any further information on exactly who that is. "We have to split up, they don't know who they are looking for so they'll chase each group of us."

"Look I don't know why we're being harassed but I'm happy to run some paparazzi around the block," Benny said helpfully. 

"There's a Mer here, a royal Mer?" Sam's eyes were feverish with delight. "Which one of you is it? Dean we have to protect them, the royal line is special, we have to do everything to ensure their protracted courting process is adhered to." 

Dean raised his eyebrows. The way Sam was talking he already suspected his human photographer friend Jimmy Novak might be more than met the eye. Dean grinned, damn Sam was smart. 

"We are not permitted to discuss the identity of the royal heir, nor their mate selection process," Hannah said, eyes darting to Novak and then back to Dean. "We have to go now, I have Gadreel on his way to assist us but he is still some distance away." 

"Wait a second, what?" Dean scoffed at Novak. "No one said anything about playing Mer Bachelorette!" 

Kevin looked like he had heard a scandalous lie. "No royal will come ashore for mate selection, that's unheard of." 

"There's a precedent for it in their history, it was an extraordinary event, precursor to historical change in their society," Charlie gasped. "But I never thought another such choosing would arise in our life time and certainly not in the current political climate!" 

Novak raised his eyes to the ceiling. "The best way to escape is of course to stand here and engage in endless exposition."

Dean followed Novak's eye line and suddenly an idea dawned on him. "That ice cream sign on top of the roof, it's got lights, lights they have to turn on and off and maybe swap now and then if a bulb breaks?" 

"Oh," Hannah looked impressed. 

"Not just a very pretty face," Novak smiled appraisingly. 

Sam and Charlie pushed through the door and drew a crowd of photographers. Then Benny and Donna existed, walking quickly in the opposite direction. Jody and Garth went out the back door, judging by the sounds of scuffling, they drew away a bunch of people too. Hannah was met by Gadreel at the door, the remaining cameras instantly focusing on them as they walked out. There was visibly more interest from the reporters even though Hannah and Gadreel were in plain human clothes. Hannah had a bright face with mesmerisingly large blue eyes and Gadreel stood tall and broad like an advertisement for Mermen virility. 

"They're getting too much attention, can't have Hannah getting all the spotlight," Novak said from where he and Dean were perched behind the sign bolted to the roof, which they had accessed through a ceiling hatch. "You ready to run with me?" 

"Only if you can keep up," Dean smirked. 

Novak gave Dean an assessing look that made the heat rise in Dean's face. Novak darted forward and jumped off the low roof of the ice cream parlour, landing on a raised flowerbed full of seaside daisies. His fall caused a commotion, a couple of the people huddled around Hannah and Gadreel turned to look. Ruefully, Dean leapt too and was almost immediately blinded by the lights directed towards him. People started screaming at him, calling him a Mer prince, or royal highness or some other cheesey title. Some just went with the standard 'hey you!'. Damn his freckled skin and green eyes, Dean was so sick of being mistaken for a Mer. Novak noticed Dean's startled look as the crowd converged upon him. He tipped his head back, letting out an unmistakeabley alien screech as he sprinted for the shadows. Using the distraction, Dean got back onto his feet and ran for his life after Novak, the hoard of reporters on their heels. 

As soon as Dean started running he realised how fast Novak was. The guy was practically Spiderman, given the agile way he navigated the crowded streets, keeping to the back lanes, running like he knew exactly where he was going. Dean took in a few lungfuls of air and let the adrenaline buzz through his veins. His legs pumped hard as he focused on Novak's beige coattail, flaring out in the mild evening breeze like utilitarian finnage. Dean chased Novak with everything he had and slowly but surely he was catching up, his slightly longer stride giving him an advantage. Once or twice Novak glimpsed backwards, barely moving his head and never slowing down. As the crowds fell back more and more Dean got closer and closer to Novak. By the time he drew up abreast of him, Novak was darting glances at him using his peripheral vision. Dean felt the smile on his own face widen. Novak seemed to have gotten a second burst of energy at Dean's approach, his chest rose a little higher and his elegant gait sped up so that there was an almost airborne quality to his strides, his toes barely touching the ground. Dean felt his heart race and his blood boil and his chest near full to bursting. It felt wonderous. 

Eventually they ran out of concrete and sidewalks, a dark shadow loomed ahead signalling the wall. Novak didn't even slow down, he ran up to the desolated beach, kicking up a fine mist of sand as he sprinted. Dean hesitated for a split second, they were running alone now along the perimeter of the wall, way out of bounds of the permitted recreational zones. If anyone else was found here they would be fined, but Dean was a M.A.P.S. patrol officer and Novak seemed frankly above the law so maybe they wouldn't end up in a holding cell overnight. Novak slowed down when the processing centre where the gate was appeared as a distant well-lit structure. Dean came to a skidding halt next to Novak. They were swallowed up by the darkness, huddled against the foothills of the giant structure Dean's government had erected to keep the Tsunamis and foreign arrivals at bay. Dean never did his work this close to the wall, the zone was eerily desolate, the sound of the waves almost deafening as it hits against the metal barricades through seven feet of solid barrier, surging along the recurving seawall and returning back out to sea. The pounding sounded cataclysmic. 

"It never stops," Dean gasped as he reached out to Novak, his heart roiling with the sound of the waves, he had to grip Novak's forearms to steady himself. "How do you stand it?" 

"When you get past the wave break, it is actually very quiet out at sea," Novak said calmly, he was barely out of breath. 

Dean admired Novak's agility and endurance if not his quick temper or his sarcasm.

"What's there to do out there?" 

Dean was surprised by his own question, he'd never ever been curious about the lives of the Mer the way Sam was utterly intrigued by them. Maybe it was Novak's presence, the exotic air about him, he was nothing like what Dean had expected. His face showing more emotion than Dean had ever seen from the blank faces he processed day in and out. Novak was lively and changeable and mercurial. He looked at Dean, his mouth pulling up at the corners, he seemed to have shifted into a talkative mood. 

"Well it's beautiful of course, there are urban hubs in the deep sea trenches. Great kelp forests that you can get lost in for weeks. Endless pristine ocean nearer the poles. And of course, there are tropical islands and coral cays for when we want to be ashore. Palms, vanilla sand beaches, coconuts and pineapples, lobsters every night, rainforests of coral and jewel coloured fish, spitting out pearls as you snack on shellfish." 

"I'm allergic to shellfish." Dean said. "Gives me a terrible rash." 

"I'm not doing a good job tempting you?" Novak rounded on Dean, his face suddenly close. 

A sea wind blew the clouds across the moon and suddenly Novak was illuminated in pearlescent light, his eyes crystal blue amidst glimmering black lashes. How did Dean come to have his back pressed against the wall? The pounding of the waves vibrating across his back, shuddering his spine. 

"Climb the wall with me, come in the water," Novak said. 

"You're joking!" Dean was lightheaded. 

"Don't you want to see what's on the other side?"

Dean shivered at the thought of standing on the apex of the wall, looking out into all that alien unknown territory. All the openness, all the threats. 

"It's a whole new world, Dean."

"I swear, if you break out into song, I'll ..." 

"What song?" 

"You haven't seen the movie? The Little Mermaid? Or was that Aladdin?" 

Novak shrugged his shoulders. The magic was broken, Dean took in a deep breath, chasing the crazy thought of climbing the twenty feet high wall with Novak out of his head. He got it now, that's how Sirens probably lured sailors out of their safe vessels, with wild eyes and mesmerising voices like Novak had. 

"What kind of Mermen are you, if you haven't seen that Disney classics?" 

"One who spent his life at sea." 

"Well, I have it on Netflix if you wanna come to my apartment," Dean was berating himself even as he made the offer. What was he doing, trying to take the Merman home? Was he going to invite him to brunch with Sam in the morning too? 

"Now you're tempting me," Novak said, his face filling with longing in the moonlight. "Hannah is probably beside herself at the moment but she's used to my wayward ways." 

Mention of Hannah's name made Dean take unprecedented action. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, it was a little sweaty and warm from their run. Dean shoved the phone at Novak. 

"Call her and tell her you're staying with me tonight. I'll keep you safe. And she's got Gadreel right?" 

Novak laughed. "You want me to cause an international incident so I can watch old movies with you?" 

"I'll cook." 

"Deal." 

Novak's conversation with Hannah was in Piscean, his voice low and growly. Dean was never going to pick up that language, it seemed to require a very flexible set of vocal cords. Then Dean got a little dizzy thinking about Novak's throat so he stood by the wall and waited until Novak got off the phone. Without the reporters, they strolled back towards the residential zone at a leisurely pace. Since it was summer and a Friday evening, there were still plenty of people out and about once they got back to the entertainment focused public spaces. They blended into the milling crowds easily. Novak walked close to Dean and eventually slipped his arm around Dean as they walked. Dean knew it was for show, maybe, to better blend in with the late evening crowd of lovers taking romantic strolls. Dean bought a small bouqeut because Novak had stood there sniffing indulgently at the camomile and borage and roses for a good ten minutes and Dean felt somehow compelled by chivalry to buy it. Novak looked genuinely delighted when Dean stuffed the small handful of flowers into his hand. He didn't even make a smartass comment, just buried his nose into it and looked at Dean with soft lagoon eyes. A few texts came in from Sam, Benny and Jody to tell them that they had all made it home and that it had been a great night, wild goosechase and all.

They stopped off at a supermarket. Novak blinked in the fluorescent light as they entered the glass sliding doors. He looked the most confused Dean had ever seen, guess his adventuring around the world had been in remote locations. While Dean felt befuddled by why even the harsh lighting made Novak look good, gave his cheekbones a sharpness that was frankly breathtaking. They wandered down the aisles, Novak stopping every few seconds to marvel at various mundane groceries. He was unimpressed by the fresh fruit stands, probably got a lot of that on his tropical islands or something, but absolutely fascinated by the racks of snacks. They ended up picking up three kinds of cereal at Novak's insistence and Dean stopped at the Deli to get the ingredients for meatballs. 

Novak got into an argument with the automated check out and Dean had to steer him away before he could get so angry that he finned out or whatever. They carried the plastic bags full of groceries back to Dean's apartment. Novak stood guard at the front foyer over the bags with his hands on his hips as he waited for Dean to scan his security pass. As if someone was going to come along and run off with their groceries. Maybe that's what Mermen did when they hunted at sea and had to protect their spoils from others, Dean had no freaking idea. It was a little embarrassing how little attention he had paid to the people he dealt with every day, almost like a mental block, but Dean had always thought that made his job a little easier. And now what was he doing, brining one of them home with him. Talk about eroded boundaries. 

"Your palace is huge," Novak said as he looked around the foyer as they waited for an elevator, all his Jimmy Novak urbane mannerisms melting away. 

"It's an apartment complex, I don't own all of it," Dean smiled. "I'm just an average guy." 

"Oh," Novak touched the marble facaded walls, his finger tracing patterns on the brass plate around the elevator button. "All this gold around us?" 

"Not gold, not even brass, plastic coated in gold paint," Dean tapped on the material. "Sounds hollow, that's how you know." 

Novak nodded and turned to tap on everything around them. 

"Stop that will ya?" 

"I need to work out what are real and what are lies," Novak said. "Lying comes more naturally to humans than the Mer."

Dean found himself crossing his arms and staring down at Novak as they ascended in the elevator. Novak glanced around at the mirrored walls, gilded handrails and faux marble floor, the dim lighting in the lift making his reflection stretch out in an endless cavern. Every frame was beautiful and when the elevator went 'ding' Dean found about a thousand pairs of bright eyes on him, full of expectation. Novak stood real close to Dean, his coat pressing into Dean's shirt, Dean could almost feel the shape of his hip digging into the side of Dean's. Dean cleared his throat. 

"Personal space, dude." 

Novak blushed and took a step back. "Just a little scared, never been in one of these flying boxes before." 

Dean gave Novak a skeptical look but held out a hand to hold Novak by the elbow, for comfort.

"This is where I live," Dean said casually. 

Novak leaned against the wall as Dean used his keys to open his front door. While Dean fumbled with the grocery bag, Novak slipped past him and quickly squeezed through the half open doorway as if it was some sort of crevasse in a sea trench. Without waiting for Dean to take him around, Novak walked around the perimeter of the living area, darting in and out of the adjoining rooms. He did this about three times, the way Dean has seen goldfish circle a bowl it had just arrived in. Dean tried not to laugh as he pulled out the groceries, packing the milk and deli goods into the refrigerator, the meats into the freezer and the fruit and vegetables went into the large fruit bowl on the counter. Novak disappeared into Dean's bedroom for a few minutes, Dean started fixing two sandwiches, piling the turkey and camembert cheese and rocket leaves high, smearing butter and cranberry sauce onto a freshly sliced French stick. Cramming everything together, he stuck two sharp steak knifes into each half of the sub and then sliced the loaf into two. By the time Dean pulled out and opened two beers, Novak was still not out of Dean's room. 

Dean set the food down on the dining table and went to his room to investigate. Novak sat at the head of Dean's bed, going through Dean's night stand drawers. Dean yelped and slammed the draw shut. Novak gave him a perplexed look, then stood up and touched the television hanging on the wall at the foot of the bed.

"It's called a television." 

Novak gave Dean a blank look. "It looks a little flat." 

Dean switched it on, quickly flipping channels to find a cooking show. Novak climbed into Dean's bed , shoes on, jacket puddling around him and piled pillows in a ring to rest his legs on. 

"Getting real comfortable there." 

"You may bring nourishment when you are ready," Novak said demurely, dipping into Dean's drawers again, pulling out a pile of delicate silks and laces and pearlescent objects to strewn decoratively amongst the mound of pillows and comforters he was perched on top of. Dean muttered darkly under this breath. 

"Beg your pardon?" Novak examined one of Dean's extravagantly sized implements, turning it under the lamplight. 

"I said that's my personal stuff and guests eat at the kitchen bench, or the couch if I like you." 

"This is very impractical as far as vases go," Novak dropped it in his lap, draping his hands over his crotch and turned expectant eyes to Dean. "Your nest is acceptable overall." 

Dean swallowed thickly. "Wait a second, this isn't some sort of courting game." 

"I have heard that human start with kissing," Novak was gazing at Dean's mouth. "But I am unsure what queues are given to commence the tasting." 

"I invited you here for food." 

Novak nodded enthusiastically, licking his bottom lip, leaving a gloss of saliva to heighten the pink, plush, plump... 

Dean shook his head hard and charged out of his own bedroom. He necked half a bottle of beer in a gulp, standing with his head pressed to the coolness of the refrigerator door. Novak had not followed him out but neither was he showing signs of leaving Dean's bed. Dean wasn't sure if Novak was yanking his chain, the way he sat there covetously going through Dean's personal effects was setting Dean's imagination on fire. A sudden buzz sounded from the half open doorway and Dean cringed in embarrassment. Novak made an appreciative and intrigued 'hmmm' noise which was audible even through the insistent background cacophony of alternating speeds of vibration.

With all the running and drinking they'd done that night, and probably because Novak was currently in his room running his fingers over Dean's hoard of delicate lingerie and brutish toys, Dean felt lightheaded. He shoved the food and drinks onto a tray, brought the tray to the bedroom door, hesitated and brought the whole lot back to the kitchen. He had tried not to look at what Novak was doing in his bed, but failed completely. Novak was rolling in the nest he had made, carefully mouthing every piece of coral pink, damask, mauve, white and crimson pair of panties Dean owned, scenting the whole lot with half closed eyes and a weird little smile on his face that made Dean breakout in goosebumps. 

With trembling hands, Dean grabbed his cell and called the first number that came on the screen. 

"I'm being seduced like a fish," Dean blurted. 

Sam made a muffled sleepy noise on the other end of the line. "You still up Dean? What?" 

"I think he's trying to fertilise my eggs or something, he did these laps around the apartment and now he's in my bed, playing with my ... stuff." 

"Did you meet someone after you left the gelato shop?"

"No, it's um, Novak. He came home with me." 

Sam sounded a little more awake as he took in a sharp breath. "The Mer ambassador went home with you? I mean, I know he wants me to think of him as Jimmy Novak the National Geographic correspondent but I think he's more than that, you know, politically affiliated. He's awfully close to Hannah. Does Hannah know he's with you?" 

"I think so, there was some screeching from her when he talked to her on the phone but I don't really.know. With that language everything sounds so dramatic, they could have been just shooting the breeze."

"Charlie recognised Hannah and filled me in after we all got out of the ice cream shop. She's a well known royal figure, from one of the most 'pure' Mer lines out in Antarctica. She's Manta totem which means a lot of respect and loyalty from all the Southern ocean clans. Pretty much a princess, the sort of rank that wouldn't usually leave ancestral waters, let alone walking about in her terrestrial form, drinking with M.A.P.S. officers! What is going on, Dean?" 

"I don't know, can we not talk Fish politics for a bit? Can we talk about the massive amorous Merman in my bedroom problem?" 

"He's probably just being territorial, it might be a show of strength rather than mating intentions," Sam's voice went a little high as he spoke. 

"Are you just saying that so I stop freaking out?" 

"Mer courtship is a complicated and ritualised process, it is very much a public affair. Maybe Jimmy's just messing with you?" 

"He looks like he's about to eat me!" 

Sam went silent. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said in a kind voice: "Do you want him to?" 

Dean's pained groan was echoed by the loud growling and purring that was coming from his darkened bedroom. 

"Uh Dean, is he meowing?" 

"I don't fucking know, he's making sounds, disturbing sounds that will haunt my dreams." 

"Okay, TMI." 

"Not like that, come on Sammy, help me." 

"I could call the Mer Embassy for advice?" 

"No! I don't want him to get into trouble. Like is it even allowed for them to want to uh mate with humans?" 

"Depends on your political views, the conservatives aren't much for it but love is love Dean. You know it wouldn't matter to me if you ..." 

"Nothing, I'm not gonna go synchronised swimming with Novak, even if I could swim! I can't, he's not like us, he's one of them, and he's a guy and he's got laser eyes that make me so uncomfortable. Sam, I can't be with someone who doesn't know what a tv is!"

"What?" 

"You know, like in Splash! He didn't know what my tv was, said it looked flat." 

"Dean, hang on, what? Novak has an iPhone and he sends emails and he Skypes and lectures at journalism conferences. He knows what a television is." 

"He does?" 

Dean's vision went red as Novak stepped out of the bedroom, Dean's Nymphia Full Rotation Tickler shoved into his mouth and working hard, mumbling with wide innocent eyes "Where's the toothpaste, Dean?" 

Dean hung up on Sam and snatched the dildo right out of Novak's hand. The lit up pearl dangler component went flying, spittle spattered, across the room. Novak's engorged pink mouth opened wide in surprise. 

"Gig's up?" 

Dean tackled Novak to the floor, grunting with the effort of pressing him face down into the parquetry floor. Novak resisted, strong muscles and sinews working hard to arch his back and buck Dean off. 

"You little shit!" Dean smacked Novak's back with the broken sex toy. 

"Do it harder, I like it," Novak husked enthusiastically, wriggling on the ground like, well, a fish out of water. 

Dean almost blacked out from rage, Novak taking advantage of the second of hesitation to roll over onto his back. Dean's hand darted out and pressed on Novak's collarbone, fingers digging into the soft dip of Novak's throat, knuckles grazing against his bobbing adam's apple. Novak laughed low and filthily as his gills burst open, oozing copiously all over Dean's hessian woven hall rug. 

"That's. fucking. organic. hand. woven. seagrass. You. Fuck." Dean said brokenly through clenched teeth. 

Novak's eyes were a hazy violet blue, his cheeks red with congested blood flow, his gills gasping for air, the tissues swelling thick and glossy and Dean buried his face into Novak's neck with a whimper. Novak's hands pulled hard on Dean's hair in encouragement, grabbing fistfuls by the root to push Dean into the sweet suffocating depths. The garish slits of gills squeezed Dean's tongue as Novak's legs clenched around his waist. Dean growled and shaped his jaw around the mess of flesh and fluid, pressing his incisor into the tendon of Novak's neck until he shuddered and moaned low and sweetly, one hand going to Dean's shoulder with a sigh. 

Then it happened, all the bliss began to burn Dean from the inside out. Congregating in his shoulder, Dean pulled away from Novak, staring down at Novak's incredulous eyes as he threw his head back in a silent wail. The pain in his arm felt like a brand, was a brand, the material of Dean's flannel shirt sleeve corroding away, Novak's palm was dark red and Dean's arm bore a hand shaped imprint. Dean looked from his arm to Novak's shocked face and back to his arm again. The fire that started at the wound on his arm was rolling down his body into the pit of his stomach but he blissfully collapsed on top of Novak before he could look down to see his legs on fire.


	4. The Guardian

"We can't take him to a hospital." That annoyed tone could only be Hannah. 

"I want him healed." This voice Dean liked. It was familiar and exciting all at once. Novak? 

"It won't hurt him." Hannah was insistent. 

"He fainted." Novak sounded pissed off. 

"Obviously, he's got issues. But we can't risk taking him where they'll figure it out." 

"Then we call someone who'll understand," Novak's hand was in his pants, digging for his phone. 

Everywhere Novak's hand bumped and touched, Dean was on fire again. 

* * * 

He was floating in the water. It was putrid and cloudy and his eyes were closed. His hands pressed to the walls of the tank, there was so little air. Every movement reminded him of captivity, so it was better to shrink in on himself and curl up his limbs, touch his nose to his withering tail and wish to sleep. 

* * * 

"Hey Dean, it's me, Doctor Donna Hanscum. You're in anaphylactic shock. Do you know what you're allergic to? What happened to your arm?" 

"I touched," Dean could barely speak, he was still under water, in a chasm too deep to swim out of. "He touched me." 

"It's not from touching, what did you eat?" 

"My arm ... his hand print"

"It's a swollen mess Dean but I don't see any hand print. What did you put in your mouth? Just before your reaction?" 

"He came into contact with my gill excretion. Quite a lot of it." 

Who was that talking? Dean could hear every tone of that voice, the timber warm and honey sweet as it trickled into his ears. Then realisation dawned upon him. Novak, he fucking hated Novak. He wished Novak would keep on talking. 

"Dean's not allergic to anything. Can you develop anaphylaxis so late in life?" 

That was Sammy, who sounded both concerned and fascinated at once. 

"Well, depends, is he in the habit of drinking down Mer fluids?" Donna sounded ticked off. "He works in a decontamination environment, he should know better." 

"You gonna treat me or tell me off?" Dean said slurringly, he thought Donna might have even understood what he was saying. 

"You don't need treatment, your body's had a severe reaction to stimulus but the rush of antihistamines seems to be reducing now. You could try opening your eyes." 

Dean's eyes still felt swollen though with some effort he could see a sliver of light. The face centre front was blurry and haloed by Dean's bathroom ceiling light. The fuzzy outline of mouth and eyes moved around and Novak's concerned voice called his name. 

The sound of his voice made Dean's heart pulse a little weird but he managed to grunt: "You fucking poisoned me."

"You tried to assassinate an important delegate," Hannah was ranting in the background but Dean could only pay attention to Novak's beatific smile. 

"Hello Dean." 

Novak's head was pushed out of view by Donna's, she looked into Dean's pupils, her fingertips forcing Dean's eyelids open non-too-gently. She seemed satisfied by whatever she found there and leaned back. Then a mop of damp curls encroached into Dean's vision. 

"When you scare off your date, you do it good and proper huh," Sam's expression was exuberant, Dean couldn't figure out what he was so happy about. Maybe he was happy for Dean's recovery or the terrifying/farcical scenario Dean was found in. 

"I don't scare easy," Novak said cool as a cucumber, what a dick. Standing with his arms crossed, smirking away, eyes smokey, neck all marked up ... 

Dean's face heated up as he remembered. 

"Is he having another attack?" Sam asked concerned. 

"Just blushing for his one true love," Donna scoffed. "Knock it off will ya? Don't get too emotional." 

"I'm not," Dean protested. 

Hannah went on her tiptoes, her hand on Novak's shoulder and whispered in the Merman's ear. Dean felt the heat in his face intensify with sudden inexplicable anger.  Novak was nodding distractedly, his gaze fixed on Dean watching his little display of sudden gut wrenching fury intently. 

Dean wondered if maybe Novak had given him something mind altering. He felt half out of control and half exhilarated. 

"Donna is right, you should rest. Hannah and I have to leave now." 

Don't you fucking ever leave me again. The thought came to Dean's head unbidden and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out. 

"I'll sleep on the couch and keep an eye on Dean," Sam volunteered. "Hey you got any fresh food in the fridge? I'm starving." 

Dean nodded, eyes fixed on Novak as he stepped closer. 

"Good night Dean." 

Dean kept biting his tongue as Novak left his side, followed Hannah to the door presumably, closed the door, left the building and probably went back to the embassy. 

"Feel like you can get up and into your bed big guy?" Donna asked. "Earth to Dean?" 

"Just, gimme a second, I'll get up myself." 

Donna shrugged and went to go raid the fridge with Sam. They kept a subtle eye on him as he staggered to his feet. He felt pretty okay, like nothing had happened. Dean gave his brother and new friend a wave and went into his room. The nest Novak had made was still there, though thankfully he had stashed away Dean's personal items in the bedside drawers. Maybe he wasn't completely a dick. Dean collapsed into the middle of the nest and rolled onto his back. The bed smelled like Novak, like sea spray and moonlight and raincoat. Dean could taste his brine on his palate. His arm was throbbing but already normal sized, Donna was right, there was no hand print there, just the hot itchiness of irritated skin. 

In the morning, when Dean checked again, his arm looked completely normal. 

* * *

Sam was still asleep on the couch when Dean woke up but Donna was already in the kitchen drinking coffee and flipping through the morning tv shows. She pushed a cup towards Dean with a simple "You're gonna need this". 

Dean plonked down next to her and started sipping, the espresso washing out the last of the sea salt taste of Novak's skin from his mouth. The next headline had him gagging and spitting the brew. 

There was a photo of him, totally touched up, with emerald eyes and a cartoon crown appearing as an insert behind the head of the newsreader. 

"Would you be the lucky man or woman to catch the fancy of the Mer Prince of Atlantis? This beautiful creature was spotted in downtown LA incognito, checking out the earthly delights of a bar and an ice cream shop. The Prince was seen in the company of a number of humans, including renowned Marine Biologist Sam Winchester, Human and Piscean Emergency Medicine Specialist Donna Hanscum and National Geographic Photographer Jimmy Novak." 

Donna gave a little cheer when she was shown. 

"Which one of these humans will compete for the Prince's heart of the ocean? The Piscean Embassy has declined to confirm the identity of the royal Mer thus far but an official announcement is due to be made this morning."

Dean changed channels and was relieved for about five minutes before his photo was shown again. This time, the reporter actually identified him as a M.A.P.S. officer and speculated that Hannah was the Mer princess. Every program had a different version of the story. Sam woke up and started playing a game of spotting Dean on the news with Donna. He said he liked the one where there was a photo of Dean and Novak sharing a gelato with a glowing heart special effect added on the best. Dean flicked to a channel that speculated about Sam and Benny in retaliation.

Since it was Saturday morning and Dean was ravenously hungry and in need of bacon, they decided to go out to brunch. Donna texted Jody to join them and Dean messaged Benny. The group of them met up at the diner with the gooey eggs and maple bacon pancakes. Benny talked excitedly about how Charlie had gone off on an aid visit that morning and was touching base with Andrea. He was real sheepish about finding himself on the news and kept talking about how he hoped Andrea wouldn't see it and get the wrong idea. Dean nodded along but spent most of his time drawing little maple syrup fish on his short stack. Sam seemed to notice and shot Dean a look before suggesting they go check out the diner's pie display together. 

"What do you want, Dean?" 

"Novak." 

Sam's eyebrows shot up, he pointed to the revolving pie stand behind a fancy glass case. "I meant blueberry or apple? But okay."

Dean opted for the cherry sheepishly. 

"So Jimmy huh," Sam shrugged. "Guy's a bit of a mystery but I can see the attraction. You were always a sucker for a feisty temper and strong willed people." 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Really Sam? He's a dude and half fish. You saw that coming did you?" 

"Dean, Bobby taught us better than to judge a book by its cover. And he wouldn't be the first guy you've lusted over." 

Dean reached for the whipped cream and aggressively covered his plate. 

"I've never been very good with Mer." 

"Yeah, you have your hangups but its understandable," Sam said forgivingly. "Lots of people see something different and they are scared. The thing we're most scared of is ourselves." 

"Wise guy," Dean looked down at the plateful of tart sugary treats inundated in clotted cream. "I just don't know what to do with all these impulses. I swear, when I think about Novak I don't know if I should be kissing him or kicking him in the tail fin." 

Sam raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Violence is never the answer."

"A VIOLENT DUEL TO THE DEATH!" Dean and Sam both looked up at the tv set mounted in a corner of the diner. The newsreader was speaking excitedly. "That's how the Mer is rumoured to run their royal breeding program. In a historic and unprecedented move, the Mer is this morning announcing a new take on old traditions. We're crossing live now to the West Coast Embassy." 

Dean sucked in a lungful of air when Novak's handsome profile appeared. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit, his hair combed though still heartbreakingly unruly and pretty, a little more clean shaven than usual. Novak stared into the lens and read from a statement. 

"Some of you have known me as Jimmy Novak. Some as a Mer diplomat. I am both and neither of those persona. I am in actual fact the honour guard of the heir of Atlantis. It is our tradition that processes are met to ensure the survival of our people, by recruiting the fittest and most worthy for pair bonding with our royal heir. Whilst traditions are tried and true, the world has changed since Anna, our first princess, revealed us. We are in need of your help. Our population has been shrinking, though you may not think so given how many of us have been seeking shelter amongst you. We are in peril and the only way we might endure is to recognise that we are not unchangeable. We are not alone. If you are interested in undertaking a series of challenging tests and would be willing to present yourself for potential pair bonding with our leader please provide your details via the application form which can be accessed on a wide variety of platforms." 

Dean could only stare as Novak rattled off a list of social media tools, the tv screen becoming cluttered with hashtags and URLs. Novak dutifully read out a long list of those and only when he had completed his task did he smile at the camera and step off the stage, ignoring the reporters' questions with a cordial 'please check the terms and conditions on the entry form'. 

"What the fuck," Dean said as he turned around to Sam only to see that Sam was already tapping on his phone looking up the terms of the competition. 

"Well it's not to the death," Sam said. "Potential suitors can retire once they have been bested in a challenge." 

"You're not applying for this are you?" 

"Maybe, it would be a fantastic research opportunity." 

"But its an arranged marriage!" 

"Think of all the stuff you'd learn!" Sam's enthusiasm could not be dampened. "Unlimited access to an entire civilisation that has been hidden from us for Millenia. Do you think about all the stuff we don't know about the Mer? How they survive the harsh conditions of the marine environment? Their language is one of the most complex and difficult in the world and it is universal across the globe! Do you know they might share genetic traits with their totem marine fauna? How do they reproduce and bring up their offsprings when their territories are so vast? A whole new species of humanity discovered mere decades ago, forget space the final frontier, these guys are our kindred and we know more about dolphins than we do about the Mer!"

"Don't need to spoil me for your entire research paper," Dean looked at Sam fondly, getting a rush of blood to his head at the unbridled joy on Sam's face. "If this is what you want Sammy, I'll help you." 

Sam grinned at Dean in reply and Dean got a flashback to the days when Sam was applying to Stanford and Dean helped him edit his application and rehearse for the interview. That summer they volunteered together to make sure that Sam couldn't just talk about his skills and hopes for life experience, he actually had them. The weeks and months and years of pooling their resources together so that they'd support each other's dreams. It wasn't just a one way streak though, Sam had always been supportive of Dean's desire for stability. Never made fun of his taking the government work route. Never suggested for a moment that Dean's work was boring or conservative. No matter what their political views or how different their social circles, Sam and Dean were family. 

So if Sam wanted to take part in some sort of breeding hunger games, Dean was gonna make damned sure Sam won. 

* * * 

Like hundreds of thousands of others, Sam lodged his application that very same day. The Embassy website stopped working due to the phenomenal demand. On his way to his shift on Sunday night, Dean saw a queue stretched right out of the gates of the Mer embassy. For a few days, Dean's social media feeds were inundated with chatter about who was applying. The news cycle was obsessed with reporting on the potential match that could be made. 

"No one's even laid eyes on the princess," Dean said during dinner break. 

There were overwhelming numbers arriving at the wall, more and more every day it seemed. There was no time to even duck out across the road for some quick take out. So Dean and a bunch of the people on shift raided the vending machines and sat down in the staff break room with a couple of hot drinks in lieu of a proper meal. Bobby was hinting everyone might be called back for a double shift during the week if Ash's crew gets too exhausted. They were stretched thin as it was and Dean was sure that if it wasn't for the sudden warmth in Mer human political relations subsequent to the arranged wedding announcement that things would have gotten more volatile and physical at the wall. Everyone was too distracted by the fanfare to comment on the growing number of arrivals. 

"I heard a lot of M.A.P.S. officers are applying, talk is we might get preferential treatment in the selection process since we already work so closely with the Mer." 

Dean shot Garth a look: "You applied?" 

Garth pushed out his chest. "Sure did, reckon I might pass the chemistry trial, I saw how Hannah looked at me." 

"You think Hannah's the princess?" Jody asked with some interest. 

"What chemistry trial?" Dean asked, biting aggressively into his Snickers bar.

"Novak was on tv, again, talking about the trials," Jody explained. "There's a fighting of course, some of intelligence test, a swimming bit and sexual chemistry or something." 

"Sounds dumb," Dean said dismissively. "I hope they don't do anything too gross, it's all being broadcast live isn't it? My brother's applying." 

"Just Sam? You're not?" Jody asked surprised. 

"Don't put the idea in his head," Garth smiled and sipped his hot tea. "I don't think anyone would pick me over Dean." 

"Don't you talk yourself down, you're cute," Dean gave Garth a friendly wink. 

Garth blushed. "I'd have trouble unleashing the full Garth on you Dean, you're sweet." 

"How 'bout you Benny?" Jody asked. 

Benny looked up from his phone, confused. "Sorry, I didn't catch that, I was texting Andrea." 

"She doing good in the settlement zone?" 

"Yeah, she's got a cube and a job," Benny smiled. "I'm requesting a patrol shift for the next roster so we can catch up." 

"Add me to the request," Dean said casually, though Benny was big enough to look after himself, Dean didn't like the idea of the man going on patrol in the swamps without him. 

"So Benny's out, unless they reveal Andrea's the princess," Garth observed. "Jody?" 

Jody sunk her teeth into the last of her muesli bar, swallowing hard and scrunching up the wrapper tidily. She grabbed a mini bag of malteasers from their little vending machine hoard and headed for the medic's room. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, Jody sure didn't look like she needed medical attention. Donna's squeal of delight for the candy came a couple of seconds later. 

"That's good, I guess," Garth sighed with relief. "Jody's scary when she's armed." 

* * * 

Dean made another attempt to engage Benny in some sort of detracting conversation about the Mer fanfest. He went on a wild rant about just how much Novak was splashing his pretty face around on tv shows and magazine covers. For someone Dean had taken to be a spy, he sure wasn't shy of the limelight. Dean was talking about the outlandish outfit Novak wore and how he really was stealing all the attention for himself, while the royal prince or princess hid behind a veil of anonymity when suddenly he paused. There, standing in Bobby's office, wearing the worn trench coat, was Novak. They were talking animatedly about something. As soon as they saw Dean looking at them through the glass walls, they stopped, Bobby stepped up and closed the blind pointedly. 

"What's he doing here?" 

"He's been here a fair bit, talking to the new arrivals. They seem to listen to him, things are calmer when he visits. They all just come and greet him then go to the settlement." 

"Since when has Novak been allowed to come to the wall unannounced?" 

"Since he came out as the Mer representative.  Bodyguard to the heir or something isn't he?"

Dean stared at Bobby's office as if by sheer persistence he could see through plastic blinds. "Honour guard." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Damned if I know, maybe he choses her suitor, picks up her laundry, tucks her in at night." 

Benny gave Dean a funny look at his caustic tone. 

"Andrea says Novak's important but she wouldn't tell me why, there's a lot about the folk that I need to learn." 

Dean tore his attention away from Bobby's office and gave Benny a nod. "Hey, bud, I'm glad you're interested in her life." 

Benny ducked his head, smiling down at his phone. "I might uh call her for a few minutes, she's on a break now." 

Dean nodded. "I'll just stand here and wait for him to come out." 

They exchanged understanding glances and went their separate ways. 

Novak was walking through the corridor alone when Dean darted out from behind the coffee machine and grabbed him. He landed against the wall with a breathless exhalation. 

"Hello Dean." 

"You didn't even call to ask if I was all right," Dean said through gritted teeth. "You gave me hives or something and you just up-ed and left me." 

"If I gave you the allergic reaction, should you really be in such physical proximity now?" Novak's mouth was twitching, Dean's hands fisted in his soft golden jacket lapels. 

"I don't care. I came to tell you, pick my brother Sam Winchester." 

"Sam submitted an application?" Novak sounded genuinely shocked but Dean knew he was a good actor. "Why did he do that, he could be drawn against you." 

"I'm not playing your game," Dean huffed. "I'm not interested in dating your boss." 

"Not my boss? How about me?" Novak fluttered his eyelashes, it must have been deliberate but it looked fucking charming. Dean released Novak's jacket so fast the Mer slid a half inch down the wall.  

"You need to tell me what you used on me that night at my place," Dean hissed, ignoring the sidelong glance of a quarantine officer double taking as they walked past and recognised Novak. 

"How about we do a trade? You add your name to the application and I'll push the paperwork a little further up the chain." 

"No, why would I, I have no interest in marrying someone for political gain or intellectual curiosity." 

"The marriage is just the ceremonial part," Novak licked his lips, eyes darkening as he whispered. "The courtship, the mating, the breeding is the fun part." 

Dean went bright red, his hands twitched at his sides, aching to grab a hold of Novak and do something impulsive, again. 

"Or how about this for temptation?" Novak leaned in close, his lips almost touching Dean's earlobe. "I'll be competing against you, you could have me defeated and at your mercy." 

Dean was still hearing the sounds of pounding ocean in his ears when Novak gracefully sidestepped out of the alcove they were entangled in, straightened his tie and walked away.


	5. The Physician

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rushes in, slams pages down on the table* here!

Sam was enjoying himself way too much, given free rein in Bobby's library. Dean had personally never seen so much crap in his life. To call it a library was to call a weed infested rubbish dump a cultivated garden. Books and objects were piled high in every direction, strewn between interesting weaponry and hand written notes. In the midst of it all was Bobby's worn armchair and a small circular patch of somewhat cleared space. 

"Over there's the Mer customs collection, from what I remember," Sam pointed towards the back of the room where there appeared to have been some attempts at sorting and cataloguing. 

Dean looked around at the dusty space and felt a pang of nostalgia. A lot of the time when Sam and Dean were younger, they'd spent time in here playing amongst the books and junk, making up stories about the random objects they came across. When Sam was applying for college, he had spent his entire summer in this room, with intermittent breaks only at Dean's insistence, researching the Mer. Since Sam ended up in the science part of the field, the books which were primarily lore and fairytales laid in disuse. 

"You sure this stuff would be useful?" Dean picked up an old leather bound journal with skepticism. 

"Professor Shurley suggested we start off here and he knows more about the Mer than anyone else on the planet." 

"Lucky our dad sailed and collected so much and our uncle's a hoarder, bet Kevin would kill to have access to a library like this." 

Sam smiled and buried his nose in a book. Dean looked down at the journal and flipped it to the first page. There was a name on it, 'Henry Winchester'. Henry was an interesting guy, believed in magic and monsters, so his entries were full of sinister sketches and spells and maps. There was a drawing of a juvenile Mer on the last page, done in soft watercolour, a complete contrast to the harsh lines and dark shadows of the other entries. The Mer was female and young, wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt and holding a toy car, clawed finger picking out a wheel. 

"There's nothing in here that tells you how to win a Mer breeding contest." 

"We're not just learning for the sake of winning, Dean," Sam said, flipping over several pages. "We're learning about a completely different culture. I'm having the time of my life." 

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I bet you are." 

* * * 

Putting in the application for the Royal Selection was like skipping a rock on a lake or dropping a bucket in the ocean or whatever the metaphor is for basically not hearing a peep out of the Embassy. The silence only heightened media speculation, Dean was hearing from the news that people were starting to enter just to see what would happen. The whole thing was turning into a circus and Dean was mad about that because he wanted Sam to just get picked and have all his nerd dreams come true. Although, Dean did think Sam shouldn't have put his personal life on the line for the sake of his field of study, what if he met someone one day and fall in love? What was Sam going to do with a Mer spouse then? 

What if one day some annoying doe eyed guy just rocks up at his work and disrupts his day and meets him for ice cream and flakes out in his apartment? What then? Not that Dean was wasting all his spare time daydreaming about someone with ridiculously feathery hair and dark ocean eyes. Or that Dean was the sort to even use the word 'ocean' next to the word 'eyes' without shuddering, let alone wearing a half smile. Not that Dean was checking his work emails on the hour every hour to see if another Mer visit was scheduled. Bobby almost fainted when he saw Dean's reply to the canteen food survey implying that Dean was actually checking his inbox diligently. Not that Dean had completely changed his daily commute route so that he could pass by the Embassy quarters twice a day. Even Benny had noticed Dean showing up with bagels instead of donuts every morning. Dean had made some excuse about trying to eat healthier but Benny hardly bought that one. 

When Dean found himself flicking to the news and rewatching the same segments of Novak talking about the breeding program for the seventh time in a day, just to hear him say the word 'mate', he called up Sam. He didn't exactly tell Sam that he was having trouble getting Novak out of his head, but being as close as they were Sam could tell Dean was in deep over something or someone. So Sam suggested that Dean help him with his fitness training in preparation for the mating trials. Dean wasn't much of a believer in jogging and definitely was no help with the swimming, but he dutifully showed up when and where Sam asked him to and ran laps and trained on the weight machines for hours on a daily basis. Dean couldn't remember spending this much time with Sam since both of them entered their respective jobs. Much of Sam's work involved being out at sea, travelling to places where the Mer congregated. Now that the Mer lived amongst them, not just in the settlement zone, but in the city precincts itself, Dean was glad to see that Sam was spending the majority of his time on-campus, subsumed in his studies and training. 

Though it didn't seem to matter how busy Dean kept himself. When he was training with Sam, or working with Benny or grabbing a bite to eat with Jody, thoughts of Novak would come up unbidden and always concluded with the inevitable question 'where was he?'. Then his bicep would ache with a phantom itch while his heart flip flopped like a wild thing. He hit the bar pretty much every night after his shift but of course Novak didn't show up there again. Dean caught Gadreel drinking alone one night but the guy just downed the beer Dean bought him, nodded his thanks and left him alone. The way he looked at Dean was weird too, like he was being respectful. Dean tried his best to chat, cajole and heck even flirt with the Mer but the second he mentioned Novak's name, Gadreel turned into 6 foot 4 of awkward blushing rock. Like all the muscles in his body had suddenly solidified and he could barely breathe. If anything he looked like he'd frozen, the way people did in the movie Jaws at the sight of far off whitecaps. Novak wasn't scrawny, that much Dean knew well from all the gripping he'd done with the guy's shoulders, but why would a solid muscle mountain like Gadreel, in every sense a superior example of Piscean physical stature and strength quaver at the mere thought of Novak? Surely Dean's the only one quivering? By the time Dean's attention snapped back to Gadreel, he could see him pushing hurriedly out of the evening crowd to leave. 

After about a week of not hearing anything, Dean turned up at the inquiry desk in the Mer Embassy, just casually asking after his brother's application on his lunch break, not trying to track down Novak or anything. The fresh faced young man at the counter, wearing a 'Human Liaison Officer' tag, scowled when Dean provided the applicant's surname. 

"There's no Sam Winchester here in the candidate database." 

"What? I watched him lodge the application online, something wrong with your system?" 

The young man squinted at his computer, eyes darting from the screen to Dean then back to the monitor. Dean twisted his torso to sneak a look at the screen. 

"Hey, that's me up there!" Dean pointed, making an agitated ruckus as the Embassy staff member, whose name tag he quickly glimpsed, tried to cover up the screen with his hands. "Yo, Jack, why is my photo up there?" 

Jack squirmed in his squeaky chair, spinning around as he tried his best to change screens, yanked his mouse cable out and finally just smacked his fists on his keyboard till the monitor blinked off. 

"Did you just break your own computer?" 

Jack dipped his head, contrite eyes flicking up and muttered slowly 'May-be'. 

Dean stuck his hands on his hips. "I'm not moving out of this queue until there's a reasonable explanation." 

Jack gulped, huge pale blue eyes staring at Dean, in awe and fear. "I'll get my m-, uh, supervisor."

Dean looked at Jack suspiciously, wondering if the tag he wore meant he was human or if he was the Mer delegated the duty of liaising with humans. Jack was definitely giving 'I'm not from around here' vibes. Dean was leaning toward the latter theory seeing as Jack was awkward as could be. The woman who appeared out of the back office was definitely human though, Dean could feel it in his bones. She flicked her thick brunette hair off her shoulder and greeted Dean with a charming smile, her hand extended. 

"Kelly Kline," she introduced herself. "Please excuse my son, Jack, he's here on an internship." 

"Take your kid to work day?" 

"Month, more like, he's on break from college, his mentoring professor is on academic leave. So I figured I'd bring him to work, Jack's field of study is Marine Biology. What better place to intern than with the Mer, right?" 

Dean nodded, getting bored of the conversation about Jack. What he needed to know was why Sam's application had gone missing and what the hell was with his photo being on the Mer database. Was it a file about how Dean could spot Merfolk? Was it about the night he interacted with Hannah, who he suspected was some sort of Mer princess? Was it a record Novak was keeping on him because of intense personal interest? Dean shook his head as if that could dislodge the ridiculous direction his thoughts wandered. As if Novak would start spying on Dean because, what, he had the hots for him? Dean was nobody. He worked border clearance, he was a queue checker. If anything, Sam would be of more interest to the Mer, since he was an expert on them. Maybe Sam found out some deep dark Mer secret on his last expedition. Or they needed his help to find a cure for fin rot or something. Kelly wasn't gonna be as easy to intimidate as Jack though, despite the fact that she seemed friendly, her eyes were cool and assessing. 

"So I hear you're Sam Winchester's brother," Kelly said, guiding Dean out of the queue and leading him towards a corridor. "Jack knows Professor Winchester." 

It was still weird to hear his baby brother called that, but Dean supposed he better get used it since Sam was pretty much a genius and now finally the world thought so too. "Oh yeah?" 

"Really well actually, the mentor who's on academic leave I mentioned earlier, that's Sam Winchester." 

Dean looked at her askance. "That's quite the coincidence. Guess I better get used to these weird coincidences happening around you people." 

"Oh, I'm not Mer," Kelly said casually, motioning for Dean to sit down in a waiting chair outside a closed office door. 

"Didn't think so," Dean replied. "Your son though ..." 

"He was born and raised overseas," Kelly said hastily. "His father's European. So he's a little different in his manners." 

"Ok." 

Dean shrugged when Kelly looked down at her phone distractedly. "The doctor will be ready for you soon, just wait here." 

Dean blinked. "What doctor?" 

"The one who's going to give you a physical," Kelly said, scrolling on her phone. "You've made it to the next round, didn't Jack tell you?" 

"I didn't even apply!"

Kelly looked at Dean, confused. "You've been chosen out of hundreds of thousands. When Jack came and fetched me, I thought it was because you got our email? When was the last time you checked your emails? Are you not interested in the mating trials?" 

"An hour ago and no I'm not, My brother Sam applied, the Marine Biologist?" Dean huffed. "Why would I apply to marry a fish?" 

Kelly's eyebrows lifted in shock at the derogatory term but she quickly schooled her features into a neutral smile. "Well, there's an urgent request here for you to have a physical examination, Doctor Milton asked to run an examination for you specifically. So maybe you can explain the mix up to him, maybe it's just a DNA swab for gene compatibility that you can do on behalf of Sam."

Though her words flowed and sounded perfectly logical, Dean got the sense that she was frantically making things up as she went along. 

"I ain't just giving my DNA to anybody," Dean said defensively. 

"Sure, just tell the doctor if you're not comfortable with any part of the examination," Kelly said. "I need to go, I have to run another press conference in an hour about the top 100 announcement. In case more candidates don't check their emails."

She winked at him when she left and he was left fuming, charmed and bewildered. 

Just as Dean was about to stand up and high tail it out of the weird back office set up the door opened a crack and he could hear a muffled voice say "Come in." 

Dean definitely had the good sense not to go in. He wasn't technically on US soil when he was in the Embassy, what if Novak was orchestrating some sort of bizarre initiation for him. No one even knew where he was. He was sure he saw a speciesist pamphlet a couple years ago that said the Mer kidnapped and experimented on humans. 

"Mr Winchester. Dean." 

Dean looked up and in the gloom of the room saw a pair of familiar eyes, peering at him expectantly over a surgery mask. 

"Novak," Dean was inside the room before he could think about it, the door clicking shut loudly behind him. 

"Doctor Milton, if you don't mind. Some people have work to do under cover you know." 

"Whoa, you're working a job here?" Dean took another step closer. "I thought this is where you sleep or something." 

Novak looked at Dean with something like exasperation. "Why is confused such an adorable look on you?" 

Dean would have felt offended except he was with Novak again, in a private room, standing so close to each other he could have sworn that the warmth from the Mer's skin was seeping out through those pristine white scrubs and permeating past Dean's clothes to waft hotly against Dean's arm. Dean's senses were a mess, the smell of warm coffee and creamy sunlight was all over Novak. Novak filled out those scrubs damned well, the cotton clinging to the broadness of his chest and thighs. Over the back of a chair, pulled out from a desk with a bunch of written files on them, was the trench coat that Dean had thrown over Novak when they met at immigration clearance. It pooled, a pile of well worn soft buttery yellow fabric, down the back of the chair and trailing onto the floor. It was disgusting how much the idea that Novak had been carting that jacket around pleased Dean. 

"I'm investigating something at the Embassy, looking out for any potential security threats." 

"Right, the queen's right hand man or something? I might've heard about it on TV," Dean elaborated awkwardly. "When you were on there, that one time I didn't change the channel quickly enough. Because I don't uh watch you all the time like I'm not a creep." 

"Can't say the same for myself," Novak smiled behind his mask. 

Dean could tell because his eyes were sparkling like freaking sapphires and the little fishtail lines at the crease of his eyes were just fucking handsome. Then it dawned on him that Novak was saying that he'd been keeping tabs on Dean. He should have found it disturbing but his heart did another one of those somersaults in his chest. 

"You think that's a good idea, going on the news and then continuing your espionage gig?" 

"Does make the job a little more thrilling," Novak took a step forward. "Although right now, if I want to keep up this cover, I have to give you what you came for." 

Dean didn't know where Novak thought he was going, since Dean's backside was already wedged on the edge of the examination table. Then Novak was right there, thigh pressed to the outside of Dean's left hip, hands clasping Dean's jaw. 

Dean shuddered, making a noise of alarm. 

"Don't worry, I'm wearing protection," Novak said, his voice dirty deep behind the mask. "Open up for me." 

Dean's eyes rounded and he spluttered. "Open what?" 

Two thumbs slid right between his teeth, prodding and nudging against his molars. "Your mouth, what else?" 

Dean tried to retort but the weight of Novak's fingers made him slobber and the words came out more of a garbled whimper.

"Nice incicsors," Novak pressed the pad of his index finger as if testing the sharpness of Dean's canines. "You're in perfect oral condition, Dean." 

Dean would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so enraptured by the sight of Novak peeling off the latex gloves. They had tasted plastic and a little sweet. Dean licked his lips, the gloves had been a little small for Novak, plumping out around the thickness of his knuckles, stretched to breaking point by the length of his strong fingers. 

"Stand against the wall." 

Dean gawked at Novak. After a moment he realised Novak wasn't going to unfold his arms and forget his request. Dean pulled down on his shirt quickly, shooting up from his sitting position and took a few stumbling steps towards the wall. When he got there, he let out a deep breath, faced the wall and placed his hands on the cool plaster. 

Novak was staring at him, Dean could feel his gaze on his back like a physical caress. Dean dropped his head in surrender, muttering to the tiled floor. "Look your fill why don't'chaya." 

"I've just never seen someone adopt that position for a height chart." Novak said slowly and flatly. 

Dean opened his eyes and felt his whole body catch on fire as he saw the numbers running up the wall. Dean spun around quickly, then slumped forward again to pull his shirt down as far as it would cover his lap, then he realised just how much more attention he was calling to his middle and uselessly settled for holding his hands in front of himself. 

Novak came in real close, reaching up to pull a wall mounted triangle tab down, his arm flexing as he nudged the bar to rest on the top of Dean's head. When Novak let go of the measuring bar to write on a piece of paper, the tape retracted with a soft metallic hiss. Dean waited for Novak's next instruction. The low light in the room, the warmth of the air and the presence of the very person Dean hadn't been able to stop thinking about for weeks, worked on Dean. Made him quiet and eager to please, his excitement subsumed into intoxicated desire. If Novak had asked for anything, had made the slightest move towards impropriety, Dean would have fallen to his knees and begged for more. But he didn't. 

Dean shuffled onto the scales in a dreamlike state, while Novak scribbled down numbers in his chart like he was really truly fascinated by them. Novak left Dean parked on the scales, and went to a trolley laid out with instruments. He selected what looked like a pair of blunt scissor with bent prongs, the ends bending to touch together. 

"Pull up your shirt," Novak said. 

Dean hesitated, swallowing as he tried to move his hands towards his front but his fingers had been twisted and clenched around each other for too long. He was all stiff. 

"Mind if I assist?" 

Dean nodded some sort of assent, dropping his eyes to watch Novak's hands tug up his shirt, not daring to meet Novak's eyes. Novak paused for a moment when he lifted Dean's shirt, Dean felt even the tips of his ears blaze. He wondered if the flush of embarrassment that was no doubt travelling down his neck and chest had reached as low as his abdomen where Novak was gently but firmly grabbing a hold of a pinch of flesh with his instrumentt. Thanks to all the training Dean had been doing with Sam, there was barely any subcutaneous fat to be measured. Novak caressed the end of Dean's shirt, helping the fabric stretch over Dean's lap once more. Dean tried to keep real still and make no sound, to no avail. 

"There's an optional component where I look at your genitals," Novak pushed a slip of paper towards Dean. "You will need to sign this consent document." 

Dean stared at the sheaf of pink filmy paper as if it might bite him. 

"If you do not consent, we can skip that step and progress to the sample procurement." 

Dean pulled in a gusty breath. "Oh come on. You can see everything works." 

"It is a mating program Dean," Novak said in a most reasonable tone. "There are processes involved in the challenge, in the wedding itself afterwards that are not for the overly modest." 

"What's the point of giving me the once over if Sam's the one doing it?" Dean cleared his throat. "Uh, I was gonna tell you when I came in, that there's been a mix up, but you started ordering me about and I uh didn't mind it." 

"You enjoy physical examinations?" Novak asked, eyebrows arched. 

"Oh come on, you know what you're doing. Is this like the 'your apartment is a palace' act again?" Dean had finally lost his patience. 

Novak was a lying, manipulative, cunning, fishy bastard and Dean told him so, word for word. 

"You like playing games, fine, we'll play. You're in my head. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, dreaming about you. I can't be in a room alone with you without losing my freaking mind," Dean jabbed his finger into Novak's chest. "So don't you command me around and pretend you're not enjoying it. Because I might be having some physical symptoms here but so are you. Those scrubs are indecently tight and you're not in that roomy coat you've been carting around like a love token every damned tv appearance you make!" 

Novak crowded Dean in with his arms, his hand pressing over Dean's heart. Dean huffed and kept running his mouth. "You gonna get me to sign a piece of paper every time I touch you?" 

"Hush," Novak said, his hand moving slowly over Dean's chest. 

Dean looked down and shut his mouth. Novak was listening to his heart using a stethoscope, why he needed it was beyond Dean, he could heard his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. One of Novak's hands grabbed a hold of Dean's wrist, bare thumb rubbing on Dean's pulse point. 

"Shhh, calm down," Novak traced his fingers over Dean's wrist again. 

Dean huffed out a breath and felt himself let go. He swayed forward, hand scrabbling for Novak's face, pushed down on the cotton mask roughly and caught Novak's mouth, sealing his lips wetly over Novak's soft gasp of surprise.

* * * 

"That was quick," Jack sidestepped so Dean could race past him. 

"The doctor green lighted me," Dean said. 

"That's not possible," Jack lifted his hand to show Dean an empty plastic bag. "Your DNA sample has not been tested, I came to collect the sample jar." 

"What can I say, my physical condition is impeccable," Dean gestured vaguely over himself, cheeks crimson as he jogged towards the door. Ignoring Jack's questions about who exactly he should enter as cleared by the physician. 

Jack poked his head into the examination room. Doctor Milton was sitting down at his desk, bent over a file. 

"I've come to get the um," Jack dangled the clear plastic bag in the air. "Urgh, I don't like this part of my internship." 

"There's no sample to test," the doctor said, he looked rather glassy eyed. 

"You okay?" 

"Yes, I am fine, Jack. I've cleared Mr Dean Winchester for the selection process. He meets the criteria." 

"He said something about his brother having applied?" Jack frowned. "Said there was a mistake on our records but I checked, I even called the phone number on the online form and the man who picked up, Sam, said there was no error."

"Humans," the doctor remarked as if that explained everything. 

Jack didn't think that was a decent way of ending a conversation but the doctor appeared flushed and sweaty, from what little he could see that wasn't covered by the surgical face mask, cap and scrubs. Maybe the doctor had caught a cold. Maybe Dean Winchester had given him something. Jack shut the door and headed back to his desk, stopping by the vending machine for a quick afternoon nougat.


	6. The Swimmer

"There's no mistake," Sam read the email on Dean's phone. "I put you down on the application as my champion. So uh you’ll be competing, not me." 

Dean glared at Sam over the pizza. "You didn't think you might wanna run something like a marriage past me? Like, consent-wise?" 

Sam put down the garlic bread with a squinty expression, he looked exhausted. "Look Dean, I know it was a shitty thing to do but I felt like I had to." 

"I knew it, I knew you inviting me out of the blue to drive two hours to get my favourite pizza in the middle of nowhere was an apology for something. How could you Sam?" 

"You don't have to go through with the marriage, just hear me out Dean. The Mer are important people, they're the future and we're the past. There are whispers amongst academics that something is coming and we're gonna need them. And besides that, don't you feel an affinity for them?" 

"Affinity?" Dean scoffed. "Hell no!" 

"Okay, how about for Jimmy?" 

"Novak," Dean buried his chin in his palm, frowning. "What's he got to do with it?" 

"I talked to him, to add you to my application and he was the one who pushed the paperwork through." 

"He more than pushed the paperwork," Dean took a huge sip of his diet coke. "When I went inquiring at the Embassy he gave me a physical." 

Sam looked shocked, his eyebrows raised. "How, um, how did that go?" 

Dean blushed remembering a few choice moments involving Novak's mouth, a cotton mask and a stethscope. 

"Fine." 

"He didn't find anything weird?" 

Dean choked on his drink.  "Nope. Perfect human specimen. Were you expecting him to find something wrong with my junk?"

"Uh Dean, I thought that was just a height check and weigh-in and an ECG," Sam chewed thoughtfully. "Did he take advantage of you?" 

"Not as much as I took advantage back off of him," Dean's words slipped out unguarded. He picked up a double slice of pizza, folded it into an oozy sandwich and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, lest he said more words. Dean had to admit to himself that Novak, somehow, always got under his skin. He brought out the monster in Dean. When it was supposed to be Novak tailing out or breaking out in fangs, it was Dean who was completely overcome. Novak was always in control it seemed and Dean kind of (really) liked it. 

"For the Mer, marriage is completely different to mating, the two could coincide but don't always," Sam said. “The thing is Dean, if there was ever something you had to figure out for yourself, do you trust me to do what it takes to help you, even if on the face of it, it was not my place to do so?” 

“Oh like sitting me down when I was emotionally repressing in college and you took me to that website and explained every single sexuality to me then let me stream as many superhero movies as I wanted till it all clicked?” 

“Something like that. By the way I don’t think you were repressing, it was just that we went through a lot growing up and its a protective thing, you just live in the moment and don’t think too much about things, not till you felt safe enough to do so. That’s a good adaptive strategy, as far as biology theory goes.” 

Dean looked at Sam and Sam looked at Dean. They traded a look that warmed Dean to the bone. Sam was the best brother ever and Dean of course would do anything for him. Putting up with a sexy Merman in an arena included. 

“So you want me to win the Mer games for you?” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Buy me a tiramisu and call me Katniss.” 

Sam dipped his head and laughed into his caprese salad. 

“And one of those ice creams topped with hot espressos too,” Dean said thoughtfully. “And don’t expect me to make out with a Mer.” 

Sam nodded dutifully, though Dean could tell it was just killing him to not mention a certain Mer diplomat/adventurer/spy. 

“And no swimming,” Dean added. “I don’t do swimming.” 

* * * 

Dean looked down into the pool, blinded by the glare of the water. There were cameras and flashlights capturing his clenched fists and green pallor no doubt, somewhere far off in the cheap seats the whole gang from work was cheering for him. Benny was probably clutching onto Andrea’s hand in excitement. Dean turned to look at Sam who smiled encouragingly. 

* * * 

Of course the qualifier included a swimming event. The email instructions included the location of the pool and the time. Sam had driven Dean to the event seeing as the rules had stated the final ten candidates would be accommodated separately once they had qualified. Exactly what those arrangements were, Dean didn’t know. There had been a loose sort of mustering in the change rooms, where each candidate was provided with an id card by a junior employee from the Embassy, Jack was his name, Dean remembered. Dean also recognised Kelly in the media pit, bustling as she answered questions and addressed the media. There were definitely Merfolk in Dean’s change room. Dean waved hello at Gadreel and got a polite nod in response. Dean’s eyes lit up when he spotted Kevin, the young man was sitting on a bench with his eyes closed and earphones in, breathing deeply. He looked like he was in the zone so Dean didn’t go and talk to him. 

The swim suit Sam had got him was ridiculously flimsy, made from a silky material that reminded Dean more of pantyhose than lycra. To Dean’s relief, the material was opaque as it stretched over his legs and was modestly ample in length. The suit went from his ankles to his chin and covered his arms all the way up to the wrists. It was printed with a green scale pattern that was a little too ice dancing costume for Dean’s tastes. Sam had promised that the suit was some miraculous new material straight from Professor Shurley’s laboratory and would ensure that Dean could make it all the way to the deep end without an embarrassing episode of drowning. Dean just wished there’s been enough time to test out the suit before hand but apparently Professor Shurley was a perfectionistic genius and had only come up with the goods that very morning. 

There were some less than friendly faces in the change rooms too. A handful of professional athletes, wearing steely expressions, who Dean recognised. A man in a suit was sprawling on a bench like a king on a throne, looking around the locker room sizing up each candidate with disdain. Some tall, spectacularly muscular men who Dean suspected were Mer congregated around Gadreel. When their ranks parted Dean was startled to see Novak sitting in the far corner, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed low in what looked like prayer. As if sensing Dean’s attention, Novak lifted his head slowly, pinning Dean in place with his fixed gaze. 

Dean lifted an arm to give Novak an awkward wave. The corners of Novak’s mouth quirked up a fraction but he looked away quickly, refusing to acknowledge Dean’s friendly gesture. A couple of the Mer stepped in front of Novak again, almost protectively Dean thought. What was going on here, Dean wondered. Novak looked smaller than the rest of them, maybe he was the weakest of the lot and they thought Dean might be able to take him on. Dean has seen Novak run and grappled with him, he thought the other Mer might have been underestimating Novak. On the other hand, maybe Novak had a higher status being the royal’s so called honour guard. He probably schemed and plotted his way to that title. Dean thought of Novak as a strategist and a scrappy fighter, hardly champion material. 

Though, as Dean struggled with getting into his suit, he wondered how the fuck he was even going to do enough out there so as not to completely bring shame to Sam. Not that Sam would care either way, but the people in this room were each extraordinary in their own way and Dean was just an average guy. An average guy who wasn’t even quite limber enough to pull up his back zipper. 

The sprawling guy pushed off his bench and paced up to Dean, eyes assessing as he watched Dean twist and turn to get his suit on. 

“Need a hand?” He said, arms crossed and not making any moves to actually help Dean. 

“I think my suit might be too small,” maybe it was all the training with Sam, Dean had noticed the thickening of his chest and bulging of his arms over the last few weeks. 

The man licked his lips and tutted. “It does look small.” 

Just as he was reaching forward to grab Dean’s zipper, the crowd of Mer parted and Novak was headed straight for them. He was only half dressed himself, swim trunks covering his upper thighs and ending a few inches above shapely knees, his chest was bare with dark cocoa accents, salt caramel skin stretching down to a surprisingly dark trail of hair. Dean gulped and forced his eyes away. 

“Crowley, I see you are incapable of changing yourself without your mother,” Novak said to the suited man. 

“Is this what kept you land-bound for the past month?” Crowley looked from Novak to Dean, smiling with all his clean white teeth showing. “Thought you were forgetting about little old me. There’s been a lot of talk about what you’ve been up to. Gossip has been rife, Castiel ...” 

“Castiel’s name has not been revealed to the humans,” Novak interjected, the Mer flanked out around him, three on each side. Gadreel stepped forward. 

Dean took a step back as Gadreel closed in on him, his bulk shadowing Dean from the overhead lights. 

“I thought we had an understanding, Crowley,” Novak said darkly. “I had personally counselled you against coming.”

“And let some human usurp my right to be Castiel’s consort?” Crowley reached out for Dean, his hand was strangely boneless and the feel of it creeping along Dean’s back made him squirm. 

“We are all fighting for Castiel,” Gadreel said, brushing off Crowley’s hand. “We’re united on wanting change.” 

Novak’s hands were behind his back and Dean saw the flash of anger that sparked through his eyes but was impressed to see that Novak did not lash out. Rather, Gadreel did all the intimidating. 

“It is an open contest, for all species and you are welcome to try,” Novak said to Crowley. “Perhaps you think you’ll best Dean, perhaps you are underestimating him. But you know me of old and my friends such as Gadreel. Do you feel certain you would be able to beat us?” 

Crowley wiped the facetious smile off his face. “I’m certain I’ll give it all I’ve got.” 

“He means the Sea-Witch will do all she can,” Gadreel looked at Crowley with distaste. “Never trust a Cepha.” 

Novak turned to Gadreel. “That’s a rather short sighted view but thank you for your intervention.” 

Gadreel’s face flushed red. 

“Please, help Dean with his suit,” Novak said. 

Gadreel carefully and politely reached around Dean, pulling the zipper up with a proficient tug. 

“If you don’t require a change of clothing then please come with me,” Gadreel said to Crowley. “Princess Hannah would like to see you personally, she was surprised at your appearance at this event.”

“The beautiful, delightfully fiesty, Princess Hannah would like a private audience with me?” Crowley sounded elated but there was something melodramatic about his reaction. 

Dean didn’t like the way Crowley’s eyes slid back over to Novak though the Mer was already seated back in his corner surrounded his friends. 

“See you in the pool, Dean,” Crowley said and laughed at the sight of Dean in his head to toe sparkling green swimsuit. 

Dean sat by himself, texting Sam sporadically, as he waited to be called up to the pool. The event was to be run in three group heats, each consisting of ten contestants. From each heat three would graduate to the final ten, with one wild card to be drawn as well. 

The human athletes were called up first, five of them standing up to exit the change room, where Jack faithfully guarded the door to turn back unwanted media attention. Presumably there were five female humans to join them. Dean was glad he wasn’t called up in the first heat because those guys looked like serious swimmers. Surely of all the thirty who were selected, some of them would be in the same boat as Dean? It wasn’t very fair, making the first event a water based one, surely that favoured the Mer in the game more? 

Novak and his gaggle of helpful Mer congregated in their corner, they had a table set up which was laid out with mirrors and trinkets. Dean raised his eyebrows as he realised they were grooming and placing comestic enhancement on each other. Of the Mer, only Novak and Gadreel had short utilitarian hair, presumably to help them pass for human when their work called for it. The other mermen were brushing their long tresses with ornate looking combs and paddle brushes, muscles rippling as they strained to get their hair as glossy and free flowing as possible. Gadreel was applying some sort of rouge to his lips and cheeks, staining his face and mouth red to match the coral nipples on his chest. Dean’s eyes widened when Gadreel tipped golden oil from a jar and began massaging his pectorals. Novak looked bored as he turned down offers of glitter and shimmer from the other Mer. 

“The oil will prevent sunburn,” Gadreel said patiently. 

“All right then,” Novak said softly and laid down on his front, allowing Gadreel to splay his hands over his shoulders. 

The liquid oozed glossy and golden over Novak’s muscled back and he closed his eyes as Gadreel’s hands massaged down his spine. Dean was out of his seat before he knew what he was doing. Gadreel paused as Dean bore down on them, his face curious and his eyes widened. Dean didn’t know what to say, only that he had to say something to stop Gadreel putting his hands all over Novak like that. It was indecent and infuriating and incredibly none of his business, but it just had to stop. 

“I’ll do that,” Dean plucked the jug of oil from Gadreel’s hand and nudged him out of the way with his hip. 

Gadreel stood dumbfounded. Novak had his face buried into his elbow, his shoulders shifting gently as he huffed out laughter. 

“It’s all right Dean, I’ve had enough,” Novak rolled over. 

Dean gestured futilely with the jug towards Novak’s chest. “I could, uh, do your front.” 

Novak snorted through his nose. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.” 

Dean’s cheeks blazed at the rejection. Did Novak not trust that Dean could control himself? The impromptu make-out session during the physical had only gone on for minutes and it was Dean who managed to pull himself back from the brink and leave. Novak had ended up with kiss plumped lips but that was all, Dean wasn’t an amoral man, he would never presume anything with Novak, not when they had no future together. It was lust, Dean could admit that much, he was burning up inside every time he so much as laid eyes on Novak. It was something else too. Watching the mermen gently fussing with each other made Dean feel all the more alone, the only human left in the room, the outsider. 

“I’ll do your face then,” Dean said, tongue twisting around the words as he blushed even more. “Put glitter and crap on for you.” 

Novak smirked and lifted his chin. Dean approached the table, setting down the jar of oil and picking up a stick of shimmering blue pigment. Carefully placing his fingers under Novak’s jawline, Dean tilted his face up to the light. 

“Close your eyes, please.” 

Novak gave Dean a lingering glance then smiled and fluttered his eyes shut. Gently Dean smudged the pigment onto his index finger, melting it with his own body heat. Then he finger-painted the pigment in slightly tilted lines along Novak’s eyelids as he had observed the other Mer do for each other. 

“Cormorant wings,” Novak murmured. 

“What?” Dean asked, his voice husky. 

“That’s the design I want to wear, similar to Gadreel’s but his is a mantaray.” 

Dean did the best he could with the information Novak gave him. Swiping inked hands down Novak’s shoulder blades to give him smudges of black wings. Then cleaning off the ochre and dipping his pinky finger into a pot of silver, drawing a fine straight line down Novak’s nose. 

Dean stood back and took in the imposing sight of Novak, looking more beautiful and alien than Dean had ever seen him. 

“Uh, good luck out there,” Dean said lamely. 

“Wait Dean,” Novak said as Dean turned to go. “Here.” 

Dean stood stock still as Novak approached, his finger dipped in crimson liquid. “Here Dean, in our lore it is said that when the first Siren fell in love with a human, she sliced his throat so that he could breathe under water and that is how the Mer came to be.”

Dean’s jugular twitched under Novak’s fingers as they were intersected with painted red lines. 

“Just a nonsense creation myth of course,” Novak said. “Nowadays, Mer use it as a symbol to wish their beloved good luck in a hunt.” 

Dean parted his mouth to say something clever, or flirtatious, or at least, not a whimper but a whimper emerged and was quickly drowned out by the sound of announcements. Dean heard his name and saw Sam’s head peek in at the door of the change room, his face full of excitement. 

Novak was already gone when he looked back. 

* * * 

“Hey, Dean,” Jack said, bouncing on his heels. “Can you believe how many people are here?” 

Dean could see Novak standing off to the side while they waited for their names to be called. Past the shade of the change room exit, the midday sun was blazing down. Their heat was the last. Already Dean could see six exultant looking winners standing in the sunlight, drying off as they waited for the final ten to be locked in.

Of the last ten remaining candidates Kevin was called up first. He padded out barefoot and stood rigidly on the slightly elevated diving podium. He looked young and undersized compared to Gadreel who took up the podium next to him. Gadreel showed no emotion, his white painted eyes focused on the finishing point on the end of the pool. A few more candidates were announced, Dean paid attention to what the overhead speaker was saying in an effort to keep his lungs working and his legs moving when it came to his turn. Apparently Gadreel was of some sort of aristocratic clan ranking from the Pacific Ocean. Crowley was announced as the ‘King of Hell’ which sounded ridiculous. The excitement in the aquatic centre reached fever pitch when Princess Hannah entered. The announcer was gushing that her favourite candidate must be in this heat since the royal princess had not troubled to appear until now. Dean frowned, was it Hannah’s hand in marriage that they were all competing for? As Hannah took a seat Novak’s name was called and he walked light-footed to the podium, climbing onto it and giving Hannah an elegant bow. 

Dean was incensed. If Novak and Hannah wanted to marry each other they sure could have gotten engaged without putting everyone in the country, the world, through this circus. What was Novak trying to prove, that he was the fastest and the fittest here? What was Hannah trying to achieve, elevate and exclaim her royal status so the humans could worship her like some sort of goddess? Dean puffed out his chest as he heard his own name, his own anxiety forgotten. All he remembered was stepping up next to Novak and glaring intensely while Novak stretched his arms and back. Once or twice Novak side-glanced him and Dean puffed out his chest, the sparkle on his costume glinting dramatically in the sun. 

A snort next to him alerted Dean to the presence of Crowley next to him. Dean did a double-take because Crowley was still wearing a full suit, though he did take his shoes off. His bare feet looked pallid and ghostly white, there was an unhealthy grey tinge to skin. A woman in the supporter’s seat was blowing kisses at Crowley. 

“I’d say your costume was the most embarrassing thing here, but then again, behold my mother dearest,” Crowley drawled. 

“Hi Dean!” A chirpy voice came from behind Crowley. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised when a bright red head of hair poked out. It was Charlie, waving and grinning broadly. Dean had heard she was amongst the 30 chosen. No wonder given that Charlie was a world renowned Mer Anthropologist and an incredible survivalist who had travelled to some of the world’s farthest oceans. Charlie looked dainty and innocent in her red one-piece, her freckled face alight with anticipation. A slender Mer standing beside her turned curious eyes in Charlie’s direction. She was painted in iridescent violet hues, her long hair reaching down to her waist. 

The umpire raised the signal and Dean looked down into the pool. The podium beneath his feet had been baked hot by the sun. There was a warm summer breeze. The crowd’s cheering washed over him like waves. Dean felt faint. The ripple on the water dazzled him and he took another step forward. 

A hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him back. 

“Dean,” Novak was calling him. “Not yet.” 

Dean blinked, giving Novak a nauseated smile. “What?” 

“Wait for the starter gun,” Novak said. “Then you swim.” 

Dean nodded slowly. “Sure.” 

“Just swim, Dean,” Novak squeezed his shoulder again. 

“Can we just get this freak show on?” Crowley sighed beside them. 

The starter gun went off with a bang and Dean fell into the water, before he could panic at the sensation of being submerged, the suit pushed him afloat. It was impossible to sink somehow and Dean gave some experimental strokes of his panic stiffened limbs and found himself inching forward. 

Novak was already a quarter of the way down the pool, closely followed by Gadreel and the purple mermaid. Charlie was catching up. There were no other contestants next to Dean except Crowley who was wading in the water. Then he winked at Dean and dove forward. Dean saw the shape of tentacles twist and swerve beneath the surface and suddenly Crowley was in the lead, sodden suit and all. 

Dean was only a third of the way through the lap when the other contestants began to return to complete their lap. Dean tried not to think about Sam’s disappointed face but there was no way he could catch up to any of them. Dean could see Novak doing an elegant turn at the end of the pool and swim back towards Dean sing expert butterfly strokes as if he was some Olympic swimming champion. Novak’s legs were tightly clenched behind him, but they were legs and not fins. Gadreel did not bother to surface as he darted past Dean under the water, his opalescent black tail whipping as he surged forward. Dean wondered why Novak had chosen to wear swim shorts and not use his tail like the other did. Maybe it was a pride thing, maybe it was to show Dean that even as a human Novak could beat him. 

A surge of pride made Dean paddle harder but his fear ridden limbs only competed against one another and swerved him around the lane in a comical fashion. The suit was more of an impediment than an aid, keeping him floating on the surface like a stranded whale. Dean thrashed his arms some more and kicked his legs loosely, then it happened, a rip tore through the whole suit. Cursing the damned small make, Dean sunk to the bottom of the pool like a lead balloon. 

Strangely he didn’t freak out, just looked under the water with uncanny vision. He could see every speck of floating dust and concerned faces swimming up to him. Charlie with her eyes hidden by opaque goggles desperately crossing lanes to reach him and Crowley grinning as he passed. It was Novak who grabbed him first, locking his arms around Dean’s middle and dragging him towards the surface, his legs kicking powerfully as he towed Dean. Despite Novak’s efforts, Dean could feel his lungs filling with water and his body slumping towards the bottom of the pool. His back touched off on a pool tile, bouncing him up painfully for a few inches before he sunk again. Dean thought it ridiculous that he could not even get afloat in a swimming pool, wasn’t the human body supposed to be able to float naturally? All he had to do was let go of the anxiety locking up his muscles, turning them into cement. Novak gave him another tug and Dean could see his arms straining as if Dean was fighting the uplift. Novak’s face came closer, scanning Dean wide-eyed. Dean could see the gills that worked in the sides of Novak’s neck, the air bubbles popping out as his lungs worked to extract oxygen from the water. Dean’s own chest ached with longing for the air and as Novak seemed to read his mind. He let of Dean’s torso and sunk down with him. Cradling over Dean’s body protectively as he lowered his neck to Dean’s mouth. Dean latched on mindlessly, sucking in a tiny breath of air from Novak’s gill. Novak’s whole body trembled violently as he opened his mouth to breathe in more water. Dean drank air from Novak till his blackening vision cleared and he felt the two of them slowly float towards the surface. Two pairs of hands grabbed them, Dean could see Charlie and the purple mermaid helping them both. The mermaid held onto Novak and tugged him along after her towards the end of the pool. Charlie helped Dean the last few meters to the side where Sam pulled him out with both arms. 

The crowd shouted and cheered over the muffled announcement that ‘D. Winchester’ is disqualified from the heat’, uncaring for his loss. Dean could see Novak recover from his oxygen depletion and continue on with his second lap. Crowley was head to head with Gadreel, Charlie and Kevin following closely behind. The mermaid who had helped Charlie was just ahead of them all, her lithe figure cutting through the water like a knife. Then Crowley dove head down into the water and suddenly darkness bloomed around him. The mermaid began to veer off course, she was clutching her gills and trying to shift back into her human form. Novak pulled her out of the muck Crowley had created, while the Crowley stormed ahead towards the finish line. Gadreel powered on, his face determined not to show the pain he was in. The humans were unaffected though Charlie stopped and tried to help the mermaid. They straggled towards the finish line together.

Sam draped a towel over Dean’s shoulders and kept saying how proud he was of his brother, but all Dean could see was Crowley and Novak reaching the finish line in record time, Gadreel coming in third. Charlie and the mermaid touched the timer just after Kevin and the rest of the swimmers dragged themselves onto the finishing podiums shooting Crowley disgusted looks. 

Novak walked past after a few minutes, he paused next to Dean. 

“You okay?” Novak asked, his voice full of concern. 

Dean choked a little over his words. “Yeah, thanks.” 

Novak looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes even darker than the time Dean saw them in the physician’s office. 

“It was a tough race,” Novak said kindly. 

“Sorry for uh, stealing your oxygen and slowing you down,” Dean said. “Don’t know why you bothered, I wasn’t gonna win.” 

“I’m too fucking tired to pretend right now,” Novak said, swiping his hand down his face. “You can have all my oxygen, Dean, anytime you want.” 

Then he pattered away towards the winner’s podium, leaving wet footprints on the hot concrete tiles.


	7. The Siren

"Some champion I turned out to be," Dean said, peeling out of his sparkly green swimsuit. 

"It doesn't matter Dean, I know you tried," Sam's voice was gentle as he handed Dean a towel. "You're always a winner in my eyes."

"Loser," Dean said affectionately. 

Sam grinned and spent a couple of minutes ruffling through Dean's gym bag to find a pair of clean socks. The change room was deserted after the race, the winners had been corralled into media interviews. A flatscreen in the corner of the dressing section showed Charlie's excited face as she spoke about her passion for Mer culture and her excitement at being one of the chosen ten. It was surprising to hear that both Charlie and Kevin had been shortlisted for the survival round, even though it had been Mer, and whatever the hell Crowley was, who had swum the fastest times. 

"Apparently it wasn't just a race based on speed. Something to do with swimming style and body symmetry," Sam said ruefully as he passed Dean a second hand towel to dry his hair. "They were scoping out the physical build of the contenders. The decisions don't make much sense to us but I suppose it's their princess." 

Dean didn't reply to Sam's commentary, he was too busy staring at the screen. Novak was standing in the sun, his hair plastered down the side of his face, his skin golden and shimmering with water droplets. His cheeks were rosier than when Dean saw him briefly after the race, though his eyes were still weary. Novak's substantial brows and his chiselled profile were somewhat eclipsed by the light, making for a mesmerising focal point that Dean could not take his eyes off of. Dean almost wished to be standing there next to Novak as he was being interviewed, basking in the light with him. 

"He placed fucking first?" Dean was incredulous when he saw the words flash at the bottom of the screen. 

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, crowd favourite too. Out of the Mer we know from the Embassy, Novak came first and Gadreel second. Crowley was third." 

Dean shook his head fiercely. "He didn't get disqualified but I did? How's that fucking fair?" 

"Charlie said she's not surprised," Sam whispered, looking over his shoulder to check that no one else was in the change rooms. "Have you heard of Castiel?" 

"Cas who?" 

"Castiel is a rebel Mer, aristocratic by descent, raised by the outcast Queen of the Sirens or something like that. He, or she, is a big deal for the Mer, popular, beloved even, but a complete renegade. An integrationist, believes that Mer and humans should live together on land or in the sea. Word is Crowley and Castiel have a secret alliance. Crowley's not high on their social hierarchy, a marriage to the crown heir would change that. Charlie thinks the royal who is behind this whole thing is Castiel. That's why humans are invited to compete too, that's why this contest isn't happening in some far off coral cove that no humans can get to."

"I heard that name mentioned by Crowley and Gadreel. Crowley said he wanted to be Castiel’s consort and Gadreel said they were fighting for Castiel,” Dean paused for a second. “Do you think this Castiel is hot?” 

Sam blinked, taken aback. “Uh, no one knows what they look like and no, it’s not exactly in the literature whether Castiel is hot.” 

“I bet he, or she, is real smoking hot,” Dean said, biting down on his bottom lip. “You saw how desperate Novak was to win. He’s probably besotted with Castiel, wants to froth all over their fish eggs or something.”

Sam made a squirming face. “That’s not how Mer breeding works Dean. At all.” 

“He’s probably like gagging to tie tails with Castiel,” Dean muttered darkly, stepping out of his swimsuit. Sam averted his eyes and passed Dean a pair of briefs. “Bet Castiel’s a dude and built like a brick shit house with a whale sized ...” 

“That would be extremely unfortunate,” said a new voice, emerging from behind Sam. “Since whale genitalia is utterly incompatible in size to either human or Mer. Such endowments would be more of an impairment than an advantage.” 

Dean froze as Novak stepped out, his eyes glancing at Dean’s bare form curiously. Dean blushed from head to toe as Novak’s eyes slowly took in every inch of bare skin, his head slightly tilted as he scrutinised Dean’s form. Dean grabbed the damp towel on the bench and covered himself from the waist down. Still feeling far too naked under Novak’s gaze, Dean pulled the hand towel down off his head and draped it across his shoulders, tugging the ends over his pebbled nipples. 

“Shouldn’t you be out there, swanning around in front of the cameras?” 

Novak sat down next to Dean’s gym bag. He was still in his swim trunks and nothing else. Slowly Novak rolled his shoulders. “I’m done, too tired.” 

“Well, I’m still full of energy,” Dean murmured, dragging a t-shirt over his arms. “Which I’ll use to get up off this bench, in a few seconds.” 

Novak turned and smiled at Dean. 

“Just gimme a minute,” Dean said as Sam pegged a pair of rolled up socks at his head. He shifted forward and slumped, it was just too much effort. Novak laughed softly and leaned back against the wall, resting the crown of his head against the damp tiles. 

“You know what would get me up?” Novak said lazily as he pulled on his own shirt. 

Dean definitely was paying full attention as he pulled on his shorts. 

“I could murder a cheeseburger,” Novak said. “And wash it down with a milkshake.” 

Dean’s stomach rumbled audibly in response. “Sammy? You coming?” 

Sam looked from Novak to Dean and back to Novak. “I gotta um do things that are not with you guys.” 

Dean looked at Sam with confusion. 

“I don’t want to be a third wheel for your burger date,” Sam said quickly despite Dean’s throat cutting gesture to shush him. “Plus Charlie and Kevin want to meet for celebratory drinks and geek out over all we’ve learnt about the Mer today. Faculty members only.”

“They will be having learned conversations that preclude pickle fries,” Novak drawled. 

“It’s not a date,” Dean shot Sam a look. “It’s just two guys getting their protein fix after exercise.” 

“I enjoy ingesting protein and wish for your company whilst doing so, Dean.” 

“How tired are you?” Dean huffed, casting Novak a sympathetic look. “You’re barely stringing your words together. Fine, come on then, I know a place.” 

Sam drove the car around to the back entrance of the aquatic centre so that Novak and Dean could slip out without fanfare. Dean didn’t have to give Sam any directions, there was only one burger place that Dean frequented and it was conveniently just across the road from Dean’s apartment building. Novak exchanged a few words with Gadreel before following Dean into the car. Dean could see the worried look on Gadreel’s face even as they pulled out of the aquatic centre. 

“Hannah gonna be pissed you’re ducking out on whatever your people are doing to celebrate?” Dean asked casually. 

“They are resting, getting ready for the next round. For as long as I remember, that has been our lot, to fight the elements, to compete for survival. Never a moment’s pause for taking things in, languishing in the present, seeing what’s right in front of us.” Novak was looking out the back window with the sort of focus he always had, like he was memorising or studying everything, the street lamps, the bitumen roads, the rubbish truck passing them. His eyes moved slowly from the window to the passenger seat and locked onto Dean’s. “They are missing out on so much beauty.”

“You’re different to them?” Dean asked all of sudden because Novak looked lonely leaning against the leather of the backseat, the dusk engulfing him. 

“My colleagues worry too much,” Novak said. “They think the human world is full of danger.” 

He pointed to Dean and grinned, raising his hand and reaching over the front seat to touch Dean’s shoulder through his t-shirt. “They’re right of course.” 

Dean felt a tingle under his skin and remembered the red welted handprint Novak had left on his arm. Dean knew he was imagining it, that mark had long gone and Dr Hanscum had reassured Dean that it was a one time overreaction by his immune system. Apparently, Dean had tested negative for any known allergens. Not that the word ‘known’ could be applied to Novak in any shape or form, if Dean was honest with himself. Dean was getting strangely used to Novak’s mercurial moods, his changing persona and his constant testing of Dean. What Dean knew he could count on was the warmth pouring off Novak’s skin when they stood near each other, the intentness of his eyes when they looked at each other, the sudden saturation of oxygen in Dean’s lungs whenever Novak was near. Even just having Novak in the backseat of the Impala, sitting in silence as Sam drove them towards town, made Dean’s heart beat a little steadier, weightier, made his bones feel loose and happy, made the journey feel homeward bound. It was a very weird feeling and it freaked Dean out completely.

Sam dug two trucker hats out of the trunk of the Impala. Novak pulled his beige trench coat over his Mer Embassy logo tracksuit. They took the back booth in the darkest corner of the diner and ordered double cheese burgers and all the trimmings. Sam got his chopped salad to go before he dropped off the car at Dean’s garage and went off to meet Kevin and Charlie at The Port. When the first plate of pickle fries hit the table, Dean found himself alone with Novak, squirting mustard and ketchup over the oily treats. 

Novak lifted a piece and dipped it gingerly into some ranch dressing. He closed his eyes and made a salacious noise as he chewed. Dean watched mesmerised as Novak ploughed his way through half the basket, grinning with his cheeks bulging when Dean tipped the rest into Novak’s plate. Novak’s appetite was insatiable and he seemed to enjoy every bite. They debated the merits of different milk flavours, finally deciding to order vanilla malt and salted caramel. When the drinks arrived, Novak stared at Dean’s tall pile of vanilla ice cream and chocolate malt with such lust that Dean pushed his glass forward. Novak stood up in his chair, curling one knee on the faux leather seat and leaned across the table to suck lustily from Dean’s double paper straws. When Dean reached for Novak’s caramel shake, Novak’s hand grabbed Dean’s errant wrist, eyes narrowing as Dean took a tentative sip. When Dean went for a second drink, Novak had to make a conscious effort to loosen his grip and, as if offering Dean the world, Novak begrudgingly pushed the glass an inch towards Dean to allow for easier access. 

“Don’t get too many milkshakes in Atlantis?” Dean joked. 

Novak’s gaze hardened for a second before he realised Dean was joking, his eyes crinkled as he coughed into his napkin to clear a half swallowed bite of pickle out of his airway. 

“We have a very strict sense of social status, the most dominant individual eats first,” Novak said. “Lesser folks have to wait.” 

“Is that so?” Dean titled his head up challengingly as he made a grab for the burger in front of him, taking a monstrously large bite which decimated more than half the bun. 

Novak smiled slyly as he added casually: “But of course in bonded pairs, the strongest lets the weaker one take their fill first, it’s a protective instinct.” 

“Well, you’re on my turf now and I get to feed you,” Dean blurted, ducking his head behind the menu to hide his reddened cheeks. 

Novak looked startled, then pleased, his mouth stretching into a smile that was warm sunshine, his eyes tropical turquoise under the golden diner lights. Pointedly, Novak pulled Dean’s half eaten burger plate over and stuffed the rest of the burger into his mouth, obscene appreciative sounds over the melted cheese and slathered sauces drifted into Dean’s ears. Dean ordered jalapeño poppers and stuffed chicken wings, icy cold cokes and creamy potato salad. Novak seemed more and more enamoured with the meal as each dish made their brief appearance and was quickly consumed. Dean could not believe the amount of food Novak was able to put away, he couldn’t even work out if it was a Mer physiology thing. All Dean ever saw working in quarantine was Merfolk having sparse meals of government issued rations, compressed dehydrated seaweed and fish meal bars. From what Dean heard Benny tell about the times he’s eaten with Andrea, Dean certainly didn’t hear any accounts of an astonishing appetite. Knowing that Benny was a darned good cook, surely Andrea would have indulged if feasting was a Mer thing to do during courting. 

Dean froze mid bite into a mozzarella finger. Was this some kind of courtship? He watched with dawning realisation as Novak sunk his teeth into a piece of cornbread, working his jaw as he savoured the crunchy buttery burnt bits. There was contentment in his eyes as he gazed up at Dean, head leaning over a large white plate piled high with savoury bites. 

“You like that huh.” 

Novak swallowed in a gulp and grabbed a napkin from the dispenser, dabbing the corners of his mouth demurely. 

“You have made some excellent recommendations,” Novak said officiously before dipping his finger into a plate of truffle mash, licking the cheesy strands off with a quick swipe of his tongue. He giggled and folded the napkin, resting his hands in his lap as if he’d just finished a meal in a five star restaurant. 

“Think you can waddle over to my apartment for dessert?” 

“Of course,” Novak said, his tone mock affronted. “Are you suggesting I ate too much?” 

“Just not sure why you haven’t exploded.” 

“I may be experiencing a heightened metabolism,” Novak conceded, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs as he sighed happily. “I haven’t felt this satisfied in some time.” 

Dean was astounded when he paid the bill, the itemised receipt was about three times as long as what Sam and he would normally rack up. Novak watched with steadfast attention as Dean ordered a few slices of pie to go, then clutched the box of pastry close to his chest as Dean opened the door for them to leave. 

There were a handful of reporters standing by Dean’s apartment door but Dean took Novak into the building via the utility entry in the basement. Dean found his heart speeding up as soon as they were in the elevator alone, Novak peeking into the pie box with a gleeful expression while Dean’s stomach fluttered with increasing anxiety. He messed up the entry code for his level twice before managing to gain access to his floor, by the time he fumbled his door open he could barely hear anything except for the rush of blood in his ears. 

Novak seemed not to notice Dean’s anxiety. He walked into the kitchen and plated up the treats. Turned on the kettle and began to boil water. While Dean stood wringing his hands, Novak foraged for some tea bags, opening up several to smell the leaves before deciding on peppermint. He set the cups down on the coffee table and found the television remote, clicking it over to a cooking show. When he sat down on the couch, trench coat opening around his thickened waist, he gestured at Dean with a crooking finger. 

Dean was on the couch and slipping his arms around Novak’s middle before the thought of leaving the kitchen had even registered in his mind. Novak smelled like red fruits and buttery pastry, having already devoured half the pie. Dean laid his head over Novak’s chest and could see the rise and fall of his slightly bulging stomach moving beneath formfitting tracksuit. Dean found himself stroking the flesh swelling over Novak’s waistline, delighting in the hard bulge of Novak’s abdomenal muscles as they shifted with each breath. 

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Novak sighed. “What are you doing to me, Dean?” 

“What do you feel?”

“Content beyond measure,” Novak said. “I would happily give up all my ambitions, to stay here with you.” 

“Then stay,” Dean found himself squeezing Novak’s hand in his. “Forget about the game, forget Castiel, stay with me.”

Novak snorted. “You don’t want me to compete?” 

“I don’t want you marrying someone else,” Dean swallowed hard. “I don’t want you chasing after anybody else.” 

“Mer are no different to humans when it comes to love,” Novak said, running his free hand over Dean’s heaving back. “It is a confounding concept made more so by our biology. Do you know what makes Castiel so valuable to Crowley? It isn’t power, Castiel has his loyal followers but his influence is overshadowed by others. Mer you have never heard of, the deep sea dwellers who elevate themselves to the rank of gods. Castiel is desirable because all Mer know he is the last of the Sirens. The term is often misused by humans to refer to female mermaids but a mermaid is nothing like a siren. A siren can mate with a human, bewitch him with a single touch, incinerate his heart with a kiss. Or so says the lore.” 

“I uh thought that was just misogynist storytelling,” Dean said, laying his ear to Novak’s chest to that he could memorise the rhythm of his heartbeat, somehow that felt like a reasonable thing for Dean to want to do. 

“Professor Shurley studied the sirens, he knows more about that line than anyone else in existence,” Novak said. “There are biological indicators of what they can do. They excrete a form of toxin that can alter a subject’s physiology on a cellular level. The serum is found in their saliva when mating instincts are activated, as far as we know sirens mate for life, so the effects of the excretion are not easy to observe. Unless, of course, you experience it first hand.” 

Dean was fascinated. “What is it like?”

“Dreams, fevers, hunger, relentless desire to be with the other,” Novak said. “Like losing your mind and loving it. Like falling in love but worse.” 

Dean thought of the mark Novak had left on his arm. “You’re not a siren?” 

“You think I’m Castiel?” Novak asked with his head tilted.

Dean shrugged. “That would be stupid, competing to marry yourself.” 

Novak laughed dryly. “That’s true.” 

“So why does Crowley want Castiel, he wants to know what it’s like to be in love with a siren?” 

Novak scoffed. “Hardly, Crowley’s mother is what some Mer call a seawitch. She knows secrets about us and has immense influence. The things she could do with the venom of a siren! And that aside, do you know what the true conflict is here? It’s politics. Change.” 

Dean shook his head a little confused. 

“Molecular disruption, mutation, a siren can turn a human into a Mer.” 

Dean sucked in a deep breath, lightheaded as he looked into Novak’s eyes. 

“Castiel is an integrationist.” 

“You must have heard that title from your brother,” Novak said, his voice a little bitter. “The Mer call him something far less politically correct, they call him a humanist and accuse him of being in love with humanity. What worse crime could there be, when the world is awash with humanity’s waste, than for a Mer to love a human?” 

“Can the siren stop it?” Dean asked, his voice a little urgent. 

Novak shifted beneath him, sitting up a little. “Stop what?” 

“The poisoning, the seduction,” Dean clarified. “Why would she want the person she loves to be enslaved to her?” 

“I don’t think the sirens can help it,” Novak said. “There are historical accounts of ... not very happy endings.” 

“I would want to be loved of someone’s free will,” Dean said adamantly. “That’s important.” 

“You would consider being under the effects of a siren-call to be an ethical issue?” Novak asked quietly. 

“Of course,” Dean replied, following with a rushed. “Not that it matters, I’m only human, so what do I know about what sirens want.” 

Novak smiled. “Well, I thought I’d come here for a good meal and good company but I wasn’t expecting a discussion such as this. Thank you for your hospitality Dean.” 

Dean rolled off the couch as Novak stretched languidly and stood up to gather his coat and box up the leftovers. 

“Are you leaving?” Dean asked. “In the middle of the night?” 

“You would rather I leave in the morning, satiated by more than food?” Novak asked teasingly. 

Dean muttered under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Said I wouldn’t complain if you did.” 

“I can’t Dean, I have much to do, the survival round ...” 

“I wish you luck with that, I hope you survive,” Dean said, shocked by the bitterness of his own tone. “I hope when you win your little survival of the fittest game and you’re face to face with rebel fucking Castiel, all you can think about is me!” 

Novak caught Dean’s neck in his hand and braced him around the waist with his other arm. He held Dean close and kissed him on the side of his face, warm breath stirring the skin over Dean’s pulse point. 

“My mind is already so full of you Dean,” Novak whispered. “I feel like a man possessed.” 

Then he left go of Dean and walked towards the door, pausing as he was about to leave. 

“You better keep this and eat it,” Novak offered the box of left over pie to Dean. “You need to work on your fat stores.” 

Dean blinked. That was the worst line he’d ever heard. 

“Have you checked your emails since the race?” 

“Why would I, no,” Dean said exasperated. “I was too busy taking this guy out for dinner and then getting mixed signals from him all night long.” 

“You should check your emails,” Novak said calmly. “If you did, you would see that you have been chosen as the wildcard tenth candidate. The survival round begins in 48 hours. Thank you for the food Dean, when I see you next there will be no mercy.” 

Dean stared down into the box of pastries as the door clicked shut. What.The.Actual.Fuck. 

Then he checked his emails and frantically dialled Sam’s number. 

There was cheering and laughter in the background, Dean could hear Charlie’s giggles as Sam yelled into the phone. “Hey Dean!” 

“I’m gonna forward you an email,” Dean’s voice was trembling with excitement. “Call me when you see it.” 

Then Dean hung up and waited a couple of minutes before his phone rang and all he could hear from Sam’s end was excited shouting. 

Novak was right, Dean had been chosen. 

After promising to meet with Sam for strategising the next morning, Dean ate the leftover pies and went to bed. All night he dreamt about showing no mercy to Novak.


	8. The Candidate

The cave was dark and wet, the walls streaming with runoff from the downpour. It was no warmer inside its shelter than being outside in the jungle. Though Dean had gathered firewood, there was nothing dry enough to light up, even if he had had any matches. He was too tired to stand, so a damp rock became a perch for him to sit on, though he felt more like collapsing. Dean had done everything he had been taught by his mother, so he knew he would make it through the night. Some tropical island this turned out to be. 

The hair on the back of his neck raised as the bubbling brook at the back of the cave began to overspill. Dean looked over at the murky depths and took a step back when a hand reached out to grasp the rocky edge of the pool. The glow of the limestone stacks hanging from the ceiling showed Dean the outline of a muscular torso and strong limbs. There was a flash of silver in the water that quickly dissipated. The creature who emerged was quite naked, his hand raised and holding a pointed blade. The dark shape moved with panther like grace, till a flash of lightning revealed a composed face and lethal eyes. 

Novak stood up from the pool, the blade Dean had seen him use so aptly, pointed towards Dean's heart. 

* * *   
THREE DAY EARLIER  
* * * 

The island was a decommissioned resort and the press was going to be using drones to cover the competition. This event was in a completely different league in comparison to the swim race qualifier. The logistics of this round of the competition were complex . Only the candidates and embassy staff were allowed on site, Dean couldn't even bring Sam. The only familiar faces Dean saw running the show were Kelly and Jack from the Embassy who took care of handling the group of humans. Jack didn't do much except for hanging around the candidates and chatting to Charlie and Kevin who were a little closer to him in age. Kelly was constantly on her phone. They were picked up by hire cars and then taken to the Embassy, where Hannah thanked them for their participation in an impersonal televised meeting. Then it was a shuttle bus to the seawall, which was arranged to be opened for a few minutes outside of the regular intake. They met with the Mer candidates on the beach. Dean caught himself looking at Novak who stood afar beside Crowley, his hands behind his back as Hannah spoke in his ear. Dean rolled his eyes, if Hannah was the princess, way to go at not showing any favouritism. Crowley leered at Dean and gave him a wink, while Gadreel greeted Dean with a curt nod. 

Novak, Gadreel and Crowley stood together as a motley trio. Kevin, Charlie and Dean gathered loosely in a group. There were four others, two Mer and two humans. The older Mer was Balthazar and the younger was Samandriel. The humans were Eileen an adventurer and Meg an athlete. 

"There have been some changes," Hannah said to the ten candidates lined up along the tide line. "There are three new entrants who will be joining the survival round on the island."

Dean was startled to see three fins breaking from the surface of the ocean, nearing the beach at phenomenal speeds. The three Mer who emerged in a great show of splashing were different to any Dean had ever met. The first was an elderly male, with a hangdog face and fleshly mouth, his hair hung grey and bedraggled down his back. Hannah introduced him as Metatron, a representative of Naomi. Whoever that was. The second was a shorter male with a wide grin and laughing eyes named Gabriel who apparently did not belong to any clan. The last was an impressively tall Mer with obsidian dark eyes known as Raphael who was the champion for Michael. Dean counted thirteen candidates in total including himself. The newcomers didn't shift into their terrestrial forms, rather they stayed submerged in the waves from the waist down. Neither Metatron nor Raphael acknowledged the other candidates, though Gabriel waved at Balthazar, the Mer who had progressed through the swimming round.

"They are from the lower levels," Charlie said out of the corner of her mouth. 

"That supposed to mean something to me?" 

"The lower a Mer's territory the higher their status."

Kevin was eyeing the newcomers with great care. "These guys are going to be hard to beat. They've adapted to the extreme water pressure at the bottom of the sea floor. Their bones are stronger, their lung capacities greater, their muscles more uh muscular." 

"So it's not gonna be love island," Dean wasn't about to let the new Mer intimidate him. "They don't look that special. One's old, one's short and the third one, okay fine, he's a little scary." 

"Their only weakness is going to be their egos," Charlie said asessingly. "Michael's a conservative, so his representative Raphael won't come out of the water for the whole time if he can get away with it. For him it would be a humiliation to have to taint his tail with land dust. Shifting into his terrestrial form would be an unthinkable proposition for him." 

"Gabriel's different though," Kevin told Dean. "He's got a reputation as a maverick and an anointed descendent of the earliest lines of Mer. He's the real threat here. Total wildcard." 

"I thought I was the wildcard," Dean rubbed the back of his neck. 

"I just thought you got picked because Novak has the hots for you," Charlie waggled her eyebrows, Dean narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Me too," Kevin nodded solemnly. 

Dean opened his mouth to protest but closed it as he saw Novak moving towards them. Novak was still wearing the trench coat, it was starting to look worn. Beneath it, he had loosely fitted clothing, designed for movement and airflow in the tropical climate. 

"I told Sam I'd try to keep you safe," Kevin said quickly as Dean stared at Novak. "But I'm a realist." 

"Me too," Charlie grinned widely. "So the aim is to keep you alive with maximal limbs attached till we get off the island." 

Dean glared at his companions, Kevin looked resigned and Charlie gave him a wink before greeting Novak with a flourishing hand gesture that seemed to indicate 'have at Dean'. 

Novak paused and inclined his head politely at the humans before leading Dean aside by the elbow. Dean looked down at Novak's hand on his arm and flushed pink. 

"Watch it with the hands," Dean said in a rush. "People are getting ideas." 

Sure enough a drone was buzzing just to the side of their best lit angle, making the most of the sunny morning light. 

"I don't care right now," Novak said and for a breathtaking moment Dean thought they might kiss on camera. "You need to get your shit together Dean. Those new Mer ..." 

"Dangerous, blah, threat, blah," Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying I'm not wetting my panties, uh, pissing my pants, I'm saying trust me to take care of myself. I've survived worse." 

"I have heard of your mother's mission to find your father and how she trained you and Sam for any plight," Novak said, fingers squeezing Dean's elbow firmly. "But you need to take care. I need you to take care." 

Dean noticed that Novak's cheeks were particularly hollow and the crests of his cheekbones were a little pink. His blue eyes were burning feverishly as he looked at Dean. 

"You feeling okay? Gonna let me win the race by forfeiting?" Dean touched his palm to Novak's forehead. The drone buzzed closer. 

"I assure you, you will feel tested to your limits," Novak said, taking a step back, though he failed to notice his hand was still lingering on Dean's sleeve.  "I am running a little hot that's all." 

"Mer body temperatures accelerate during mating trials," Kevin said from a couple of feet away, his voice cutting through Dean's reverie. "The enhanced metabolism gives them more adrenaline and endurance. Which usually means a better chance of winning." 

"You really wanna marry the princess huh?" Dean asked, his throat closing up a little. "You gotta get through me first." 

Novak stared at Dean for a long minute and began to shrug off his jacket. 

"The renegade and the subpar human are not allowed to fight before we get to the island," Gabriel said from the shoreline, a trace of amusement in his tone. "Gotta play by the rules. Since this is pretty much the most significant mating in, well, forever."

Ignoring all the commotion around them, Novak peeled off his trench coat and rolled it up. "Will you keep this safe for me?" 

Dean looked down at the bundle being offered to him in shock. 

"I have to swim over to the island, you're going on a boat. It is not an item of clothing that lends itself well to swimming." 

"Uh, yeah, okay." Dean patted the bundle. "I'll keep an eye on it." 

"Thank you," Novak said slowly, sliding the hand on Dean's sleeve down to cover Dean's.  

The drone hovered for a few salient moments, only flying away when Novak finally let go of Dean's hands and walked back towards the other Mer. 

A small speedboat cut across the water, Jack was at the helm, waving his arms enthusiastically. As Dean waded through the surf to get into the ride, he held the jacket close to his chest to keep it dry. 

* * * 

The island was some hours away. Kevin, Charlie, Meg and Dean were dropped off at the four compass points, spread out from each other. Charlie and Kevin tried to impart as much last minute advice as they could, while Meg smirked and took a nap. Not long after that, Dean found himself alone in a coral cove. As Jack departed with the boat, a couple of drones flew in to keep Dean company. Apart from the glowing lights on the cameras it was utterly desolate, the tide moving out and the sun beginning to wane. The rules were simple, combat using procured weapons were permitted though not necessary, anyone seriously injured were retired from the race. The last to remain on the island wins. Dean knew that he had to stay away from the water, if he wanted to evade the deep sea Mer who everyone had been trying to warn him about. So that left the only option of going to higher ground, foraging or hunting for sustenance and making safe shelter with whatever he could find. Dean headed straight for the tree line, then spent an hour or so heading for the hills. The forest was dense and rich with offerings. Dean foraged for a few edible plants that Mary had taught him about when he was a young child. Up in the more mountainous region, Dean found a natural cave hidden behind thick layers of vegetation. He gathered tinder and even managed to find a stone ledge in which to stow Novak's trench coat. As the sun set beneath the horizon, Dean sat at the mouth of the cave, taking cover behind a limestone stack. Though the beach was far from him, he could hear the sound of waves as they crashed into the shore. He wondered if Novak was in the foamy tides close by, whether he was hiding safely or entangled in a brawl. The first night passed without any drama, except when the mountain lion came back to its cave dwelling and Dean had to fight it off with a tree branch. The wild hare the mountain lion dropped was a tempting proposition but Dean did not want to risk giving away his location with a fire. To Dean's chagrin, the brook at the back of the cave proved to be brine so that ruled it out as a source of drinking water. Instead, Dean cleaned the game and made strips of meat, soaking the pieces in the salt water to cure and air dry. There was enough on the carcass to last him a day or two, three at a stretch.  If he needed to lie low, three days could make all the difference. As the evening mists settled, Dean headed out of the cave and sought out moss from the crevasses of the mountain rocks. When he squeezed them, there was enough moisture to quench his thirst but by morning he knew he would have to chance a raid to the palm groves for coconut water.

As the air temperature dropped, Dean shook open Novak's trench coat and draped it over his shoulders. The material was still weather proof and insulated Dean well. Dean wondered when Novak would come to claim it back. His dreams were erratic and strange. Full of water and glass, a panel fogged over with scratches from a claw, a face on the other side obstructed by the white lines of damages. A juvenile his age, staring at him with an unseeable face. 

* * * 

There was someone in the palm grove, sprinting through the under growth. Dean remained in his hiding spot, to see Meg light footed and fast, running through the ferns with three coconuts under her arms. Gadreel was on her heels, quickly catching up. There was a makeshift bow in his hand but he did not stop to shoot the bamboo arrows he had fashioned. Meg darted behind a trunk, dropping one of her loot. The coconut rolled slowly across the ground giving away her position. Gadreel walked ahead and picked it up, as he stood up a grey flash snared him across the shoulders, the tentacle wrapping around Gadreel's neck and pulling him towards Crowley who had been lying in wait. 

Meg sprang out of the trees, lifting a coconut and banging it down on Gadreel's head before Dean could even try to intervene. A drone lit up red and flared into the sky. Meg and Crowley exchanged a look and let go of Gadreel. Crowley slithering his way towards the beach and Meg sprinting away with her bloodied coconut. Dean waited till they had gone to go and help Gadreel, taking off his t-shirt to stem the blood flow. The canopy wavered as the sound of a helicopter passed overhead. A drone blinked bright green and hovered for Dean to follow. Dean watched from a distance as first aid workers descended, winching Gadreel into the helicopter. 

Dean eyed the foliage at the location where Meg had dropped the other coconut, but a figure emerged from the greenery and beat Dean to it. For a moment Dean couldn't quite work out what he was seeing, then he realised the lichen covered thing was Charlie beneath makeshift camouflage. Dean thought about saying 'hi 'and maybe teaming up with Charlie but decided that given the way some of the candidates were playing the game, Charlie stood a better chance without Dean burdening her. Dean stayed quiet as he watched her smile with relief and take the coconut, submerging into the plants and disappearing again. He was glad that she had found some water. 

Dean knew by the growth of the trees that there was a fresh water stream feeding into the beach. Meg had headed upstream of it and Crowley had gone to the other end of the coastline. Dean weighed up his options and decided to chance it. Picking up the bow and arrows Gadreel had left lying on the ground, Dean strapped the lot to his back with his belt. He was down one t-shirt but at least Novak's trench coat was safely back at the cave. The thick bamboo tube that Gadreel had used to hold the arrows would make a perfect water canister. 

Before the shoreline even came into view, Dean worked out that going to the water source was a bad idea. Eileen was hanging upside down from a tree, her foot snared by a trap made of expertly knotted vines. She signed frantically when she saw Dean approach. He signed back that he was friendly. She narrowed her eyes at him as he poised the bow and arrow, signing for him to wait. Dean didn't wait, his arrow flew true and Eileen landed on the leaf litter with a sharp gasp. She gave him the middle finger, then a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Dean smiled, amused and waved bye as she ran off towards the beach. Still going at a full pelt, seemingly uncaring that there might be more traps. Dean moved much slower, carefully eyeing the branches and tracks to ensure that the route he took had not been taken by someone else recently. Sure enough after a few minutes, there was a yelp in the distance. Dean crept near the second snare and smirked to see it was Meg who was caught this time around. Dean let her hang there for a few minutes since her violence towards Gadreel was something he had detested. The sound of soft footfall kept Dean in his hiding spot however. A fierce looking Kevin stepped forward and bound Meg's hands and knees. 

"Don't make a noise or I will have to gag you," Kevin said quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you, just take you down to the beach for the helicopter to collect. Please concede your defeat." 

Meg shot Kevin a glare and titled her chin up towards the drone capturing the moment. 

"Fine, an hour on the beach and the medic will deem you too dehydrated to stay in the game. It is the gentlest way to take someone out of the competition." 

When Kevin and Meg were gone, Dean checked that there was no one else around before he picked up the precious little coconut that had fallen out of Meg's clutch when she was caught by the trap. He should have just taken it and gone back to the cave but he wanted to see what Kevin was doing going down to the beach. 

Making sure that he was well hidden in the crevasses of the sea cliff, Dean waited carefully climbed down towards the beach. Kevin led Meg down a rocky trail and left her sitting, trussed up, near the water. To Dean's shock there was a Mer in the surf who was lying on his back, an ugly crimson strip running down his aged torso. 

"Got any water on you?" Kevin asked Meg. "You can talk now, it's only you, me and Marv here." 

"Marv?" Meg laughed. "That's Metatron, Naomi's right fin." 

"I found him in the water last night, he said Raphael and him don't get along. Political differences. He was injured, I think he's dying. I don't know why the drones haven't taken him. I know he's not human but we have to help him." 

Meg snorted through her nose and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder with a shrug. "Why don't you search me for water?"

Kevin reddened immediately. "I would never do to that to someone in your situation." 

"Maybe I like being tied up so tight, it's making me all stiff in places, how about you?" 

Kevin rolled his eyes at her. "Oh please, I might look young but I wasn't born yesterday." 

"Let 'Marv' dry out then, see if I care," Meg lied down in the sand, facing the water and seemingly going to sleep. 

Kevin sighed and waded into the water. 

Dean gave up his hiding spot and began a full pelt run and tumble down the side of the cliff face but he was too late. The moment Kevin entered the wave zone, Metatron rolled over, clawed hands thrusting towards Kevin and latching onto his ankle. His mouth leered showing sharp shark like teeth. Kevin lashed out with his fists, twisting his body to get free but he was outmatched by Metatron's strength. A wickedly clawed hand raised to the sky, Metatron screeched as he bore down on Kevin. 

Dean's breath halted when Novak broke the ocean's surface, he had something silver in his hand which he slashed across Metatron's back, real Mer blood gushed violet blue down Metatron's back. A drone flared red and blazed upward. Having scored the hit, Novak dove into the surf and disappeared. Kevin took the opportunity to swim back onto the beach, panting as he regained his freedom. 

Dean made his way to Kevin, since he had already given away his position. He wondered if Novak had seen him but the Mer hadn't hung around to speak to him. Dean was sure that Novak had a weapon that was some kind of a blade. Dean was also certain that Novak had been in his terrestrial form when he was attacking Metatron. Why Novak hadn't shifted when taking on a deep sea foe in the ocean was puzzling. Come to think of it, Dean had never even seen Novak's Mer tail despite all the time they had spent together. 

Kevin was glad to see Dean. He assured Dean that there were traps carefully laid out all around the beach and that they were relatively safe from any human candidates. Dean showed Kevin the hidden stream and they guzzled as much water as they could. Dean filled up his bamboo canister and sealed the top with a moss wrapped seashell. The sun was high by then and they debated whether they should give Meg some water. They settled for splashing her face with dampened moss but they still needed her to be medically retired from the game. She was pretty pissed and rolled her face into the damp sand to ignore them. 

Dean and Kevin took the opportunity to spear fish with some sharpened branches, eating their catch sashimi style. They waited and waited but a flare didn't go up for Meg. Dean knew he should have headed back to his own territory once he had stocked up on food and water but the idea that Novak might resurface again in this area made staying a tantalising proposition. The sky began to darken in the afternoon, storm clouds gathering on the horizon as the sun dipped bloodied and dull in the sky. The tide began to rise and Dean almost gave up on waiting for another glimpse of Novak when a fin broke the ocean surface. 

A dark haired Mer with a sapphire blue tail swam elegantly ashore, from a distance Dean thought it had been Novak. However, there was no pull in his chest and no quickening pulse as the Mer neared. Dean realised that it was Samandriel the young Mer. The look on Samandriel’s face was panic stricken and Dean soon saw the inky fin chasing him. A great white tail lashed from the ocean's surface, its end a wicked spine rather than the typical fin.  

Samandriel didn't stand a chance against Raphael but Dean was relieved when he saw a golden tail flash through the swirling waters. Gabriel was swimming circles around Raphael, stopping him from scoring a deadly strike on the younger Mer. After a few minutes, a bronze tail joined the skirmish and to Dean's surprise Balthazar was fighting along side Gabriel to assist Samandriel. After a while, Raphael gave up and headed out to sea. Balthazar and Gabriel pushed Samadnriel towards the shore, his tail fin had been ripped to shreds by Raphael's claws. A drone flared as soon as Samandriel's injuries became apparent. Dean and Kevin helped pull Samandriel onto the beach, where he took his terrestrial form. His legs were covered in cuts and bleeding, the helicopter began to descend and Gabriel gave Dean a mock salute as he and Balthazar returned to the sea. 

Dean shouted at the helicopter when it took off with Samandriel, they had forgotten Meg. When he turned to point at her, he realised she was gone. The vines binding her adrift in the risen tide. 

Kevin told Dean that he slept tied to the palm trees. Dean worked out that there was no way he could climb like Kevin. So he promised Kevin he would meet him at the stream again in the morning and headed towards his cave. When he made it, Dean sunk against the cold stone in the centre of the cave, exhausted. He placed his water canister, bow and arrow and single coconut atop the stone. As Dean laid his head back against the rock, his eye went to the stone shelf where he had stowed Novak's trench coat. It was still there, neatly bundled, but sitting atop it was a large parcel wrapped in green banana leaves. 

Dean opened the origami like package and gaped. There was a shell-made blade inside, bound with a vine handle. Beside it was a bunch of ripe bananas, half a dozen dried abalone and an emerald green stem. Dean picked up the aloe vera plant and heard his own pleased laugh echoing softly back. He broke off a small piece to apply it to his slightly sunburnt skin. The rest of the plant he carefully buried beside the cave mouth, where it could feed off the sunlight and dew. The last thing in the parcel made it clear who had left him the bountiful gift, it was a small green coconut and on it Novak had traced out the shape of his palm with the shell blade. Dean pressed his hand to his own shoulder and felt the tingle beneath his skin. He ate a banana and went to sleep just as the rain began to fall.


	9. The Diver

Dean woke to the sound of rain. The mouth of the cave was a misty silver blur as Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The morning light was subdued and the cave was colder than the night before. Dean pulled Novak's trench coat tight around himself and wondered if Novak was missing it in all the downpour. Then he felt ridiculous for wondering whether a Mer would feel lost in the rain. It was an excusable lapse on Dean's part though, since Novak was the most human Mer Dean had ever met. Sure he played at being mysterious and was obviously oblique when it came to explaining his motives, plans or opinions; but Dean had seen the other side too. The snap decisions and reckless disregard for rules, the way Novak looked at Dean with blatant desire. Dean wondered how the other Mer tolerated Novak's foibles. 

It might have been nice to sit in the cave, eating and waiting out the game, but Dean was a restless soul. He had arranged to meet up with Kevin by the stream, though with all the rain there was little need to collect water. The change in weather mitigated the advantage Dean had worked so hard to gain. With a good supply of water and some means of storing it, a person would survive for weeks in the wilderness. Dean could only guess what the biological requirements of the Mer were, though he knew their threshold for sustenance was much higher than humans. Not feeling much hunger himself, Dean ate a banana Novak had gifted to him. It was just a little under-ripened, with a slight bite and a fragrant scent which Dean savoured. 

The stream was overflowing from the rain and Dean was thankful for the waterproof quality of Novak's trench coat. His face and his lower legs were still soaked through, the raindrops running down to seep through Dean's socks. Dean huddled beneath the canopy of a tree and waited for Kevin to appear, all the while trying to listen for footfalls through the bluster of the rain. There was no sign of Kevin and Dean grew increasingly worried. It was possible that a flare had gone up for Kevin while Dean was asleep, perhaps the strategy of splitting up to ensure everyone could hide was not effective. Dean began to question whether he should have stayed in a group with Kevin and Charlie. 

"Cassie, better come up here, she's coming," Dean was startled by the hiss coming from the top of the tree. 

Balthazar was lying face down on a thick branch, his limbs wrapped around the wood securely. When Dean looked up he blinked and let out a chuckle. 

"Oh, it's you," Balthazar said. "Dean Winchester, why are you wearing that coat? Doesn't it belong to a certain Mer?" 

Dean had reached for his shell blade but he paused at Balthazar's friendly tone. 

"You're a friend of his? Prove it," Dean demanded. 

"Are you a friend or foe? Can you prove it, either way?" Balthazar rolled his eyes and extended a hand. "If I was going to attack you, you'd be carried off on a stretcher by now." 

Dean was shocked to see that Balthazar had a glinting silver blade in his hand, which quickly disappeared up Balthazar's sleeve. 

"Do you still want to be in the game by the time the owner of that jacket joins us? If so, get climbing!" 

Dean took Balthazar's hand and scaled the tree. Within moments the branches began to move in the east, revealing Kevin running full pelt. The person chasing him was familiar to Dean, Meg was holding a wicked looking spear, the very one Dean had seen Kevin fish with the day before, which she threw with all her might towards Kevin. He ducked just in time, slip sliding off a grassy hill and disappearing into the undergrowth. Meg picked up the spear without pause as she gave chase. 

"I have to help him," Dean hissed, struggling against the sudden grip on his forearm. 

"Too late," Balthazar replied. A flare went up just as he spoke. 

After a moment Kevin limped out of the trees, Meg smiling as she helped him sit on a rock, the snapped spear propped under Kevin's arm as an aid. 

"No hard feelings kid," Meg poked him with the blunt end of the spear. 

"Trip wires are unsportsmanlike." 

"So are snares," Meg reminded Kevin. "What's good for the swan is good for the chicken. Or whatever that saying is. You good to wait for the helicopter? I gotta go, cause I got a hand in marriage to win." 

Kevin grunted as Meg grinned crookedly and set off in a jog, the broken spear tip gripped in her hand as she took off to wreck havoc elsewhere. 

"I almost want her to win, just to see the look on Cassie's face when he finds out it's her," Balthazar chuckled. 

"Who's Cassie?" Dean asked. "Is that short for Castiel?" 

Balthazar gave Dean a dazzling grin. "Are you asking me who Castiel is?" 

Dean nodded quickly. 

"Oh, I'll let uh Novak clear that up for you," Balthazar winked. "I don't want to blow anyone's cover."

"Is there anything you can tell me?" Dean was exasperated. "While you've got me up here as a captive audience?" 

"I can tell you that anyone with a blade like mine is unlikely to harm you," Balthazar said. "The Mer who carry it are The Blessed. Oh, what is he doing up here?." 

Blathazar's blade was in his hand as he peered towards a patch of moving shrubs. Instinctively, Dean quietened, the foliage moved apart to reveal Raphael walking in his terrestrial form. He was unclothed and dazed, an expression of disgust on his face as he traversed through the terrain. He might have been annoyed to have had to get ashore but he looked just as imposing and powerful out of the water as he did in it. 

Dean and Balthazar waited a long time before they could breathe easily again. Carefully, they climbed down the tree and began to head in the opposite direction of Raphael. They were only a few hundred yards from the tree when they were ambushed, Raphael pouncing on Balthazar in all his naked glory. It was a rouse, Raphael had scented them and doubled back around to catch them off guard. Balthazar threw himself in front of Dean and lashed out with his blade. 

"Disgusting," Raphael growled, his jaw opening impossibly wide, his bulging eyes rolling back into his head. "An unnatural and what kind of ape are you?" 

Balthazar swirled his blade in a flourish, his movements so finessed that they seemed like a dance. Still Raphael's claws raged like a hurricane. Dean felt his blood run hot as the violence escalated before his eyes. There's something completely unsatisfactory about the way Balthazar avoided the aggressive attack and drew Raphael's attention away from Dean. Then the moment came when Balthazar tried to duck under a swaying fist, his footing was slightly off and suddenly he was sprawled on the ground, the blade thrown to the side. Raphael gave a triumphant roar and launched himself at Blathazar. Dean heard another roar, the sound of it blustering his eardrums and only when he had thrown himself into the affray did he realise it had been his. Dean was kicking and punching however he could, all the movements Mary had taught him so long ago suddenly blossoming back into his head. Raphael relied on his claws, his sting thankfully absent. Dean was fighting with his bare hands, he felt himself parry, block and thrust his fists with more confidence than ever before. His blood boiled as the violent clash raged on. At one point, Balthazar threw his blade towards Dean. Dean managed to catch it but it was far less effective when he yielded it. Just a few blows later, it was knocked to the ground again. 

"If you can get Novak, now's the time!" Dean yelled towards Balthazar. 

"He's on the other side of the beach, with Gabriel!" Balthazar shouted. 

Dean grunted and threw himself into Raphael's arms, his hands clutching onto the Mer's head as his feet tried to land blows to his torso. Raphael twisted and threw him off with a wave of his arm. Then he shifted, his legs morphing into a tail in a split sceond and Dean rolled and rolled along the ground to try and get out of the way of the sting. Raphael  was shockingly fast as he slithered along the ground, Balthazar lifted his blade over head and sunk it right through Raphael's tail. A gush of purple blood sprayed out but when Dean looked closer it was only the fin joining the tail to Raphael's  sides that had been pierced. The sting had run Balthazar's shoulder right through. A drone immediately burst into a flare signal, Dean sighed with momentary relief. Then he realised with shock that Raphael was still attacking, his sting surging towards Dean's throat. 

There was a shrill shout in the distance and for a second Dean thought it was Novak, but the cry was joined by another. As Dean lay pinned beneath the sting's attacks, a hail of rocks descended. Charlie was attacking with a coral sword and Eileen was pummelling a branch over Raphael's back. Dean found the seconds necessary to grab Balthazar's blade and with a swift movement he used it to split the sting into two. Raphael screamed and morphed instantly, running for the sea. Eileen and Charlie chased him to the edge of a sea cliff before he leapt for the ocean. They waited for the flare but there was none. 

Balthazar was cursing as he batted at the buzzing drones around him. "I'm not seriously injured, keep me in the stupid game." 

The sound of the helicopter in the distance was his only answer.

Eileen and Charlie found some branches to tie to Balthazar's arms to help stabilise his shoulder. He was a Mer and seemed more angry than pained by the injury. 

"Your blood is red," Dean looked down at his hands after helping to pressurise the wound. "I thought Mer bled blue?"

"I told you, I'm blessed. Or you know, according to Raphael, I'm unnatural. Not all Mer are the same - but hey how about we stop playing twenty questions and you go and ask your boyfriend for the truth, the whole truth and happily ever after?" 

"I haven't even seen him on the island," Dean complained. 

"So he is your boyfriend," Charlie was so excited by the inadvertent admission that she clapped. "When's the wedding Dean?" 

"If Novak is the Mer prince, the wedding would be a public consummation at midnight of the true blue moon," Eileen signed helpfully. 

"Fuck you guys," Dean said without malice. "Really, stand clear for the helicopter." 

They said a quick goodbye to Balthazar. As they were leaving, Balthazar said to Dean: "For the record that was good fighting there, maybe you are as special as everyone thinks you are." 

Dean was sure Balthazar was delusional from blood loss. Balthazar's words were drowned out by helicopter rotators. They sprinted out of the way as a trio, taking a route Charlie had memorised. The whole way there they were under cover of canopies, their passage was over rough terrain. They crawled under over hangs and even stepped behind a waterfall, finally they were inside a valley full of hidden tropical vegetation. 

"Home sweet home," Charlie welcomed Dean, there was a shelter built into a tree, hanging from an immense height. "Get climbing!" 

Dean followed Eileen and Charlie, they were a lot faster at it than he was, but his arms were strong and his body wiry from days of intense exercise. Once they were inside the shelter, Charlie gave him a leaf pouch full of water and a sweet fruit to munch on. The women unarmed themselves, sighing as they relaxed against the railing.  

"I like Balthazar," Eileen gestured. "He was really putting his life on the line there for you, Dean." 

"Balthazar is loyal to Castiel," Charlie offered. "Most people with a working knowledge of Mer politics knows that. Apparently they've been working for the cause of the hybrids for many years together. Balthazar spends most of his time on land, preferring to play human than to get involved in warfare. The fact that he's here proves Castiel is the royal who is tying the knot. Rumour is Balthazar has always been enamoured with Castiel." 

"I'm 90% confident Novak is Castiel," Eileen signed, then she waved her upturned palm at Dean in a 'what do you think' gesture. 

"I already asked him, he side stepped the question," Dean huffed. "I don't know, I asked why he would marry himself." 

"Maybe he doesn't want to marry anyone, Mer custom is that if you win the race yourself, it means there was no worthy candidate," Charlie informed Dean. "Or maybe it is Hannah, who knows, I sure would prefer being married to her. Beneath that icy exterior, I bet she loves boardgames!"

Eileen put her thumb and forefingers together to make a broken heart. 

Charlie laughed and wrapped her arm around Eileen. "Hey island buddy don't worry there's plenty more fish in the sea. Have you heard of Professor Samuel Winchester? Oh you have? He's cute yeah. He's Dean's brother." 

Dean spent the day hanging out with Charlie and Eileen in their hideout. Eileen had grown up as an orphan and was into chasing down urban legends and 'taking care of business' when necessary. She placed quotation marks around the phrase when she signed it so Dean could only guess at what that meant. She recounted to them incredible stories of her travels around the world, saving people, hunting monsters. If even half of her stories were true, Dean would have to completely readjust his world view. Dean wondered why Eileen was on the island at all, she wasn't a species diversity advocate like Charlie, if anything it kind of sounded like her job to assassinate those who preyed on humans. 

"Not sure if it is politically correct to ask but uh have you ever hunted any Mer?" 

"Mer are people just like you" Eileen gave Dean a meaningful look. "Of course I don't charge in and kill them, that would be murder. I do try to step in when they are going full Siren." 

Dean considered whether it would be wise to show Eileen how he can mimic a Siren call and whether he should mention his growing belief that Novak is one. As he watched her sharpen more arrows with a piece of coral, he decided against the idea. 

Though Eileen and Charlie tried their best to convince Dean to stay with them, he was determined to head back to the cave before nightfall. Though he thought it unlikely, since Balthazar mentioned Novak was hanging out with Gabriel on the other side of the island, there was a part of him that hoped Novak would pay another visit like he did the day before. Maybe this time Dean would be able to catch him as he left his gifts. 

Dean made it back to the cave just as the sun set. The rain had stopped but the winds were high and cold. As the storm clouds gathered Dean moved enough foliage and rocks to cover the mouth of the cave. Carefully he constructed air vents, by the time it was dark outside Dean lit a tiny fire, knowing the moonless evening would hide any smoke.

With the aid of the fire, Dean cooked one of the dried abalone pieces from Novak. It was chewy and salty sweet, Dean ate the whole thing in one bite, then finished off the meal with another banana. Strangely satiated by the sparse meal, Dean fell asleep before the glowing embers. 

 

* * * 

He dreamt of Novak in a tropical cove, resplendent in pearls and nothing else, offering Dean a platter full of shucked oysters. His tail, which Dean had not as yet seen in waking life, glittering in rainbow colours as it swished strongly in the warm waters. The sea lapped at their waists, warm as bath water. Novak wound his arms around Dean's neck, wrapping his tail around Dean's lower body. Dean gasped and kicked his legs but could not move them. He looked down into the water and saw that his legs had fused together into a monstrous tail, white fleshed with hairy skin and devoid of any fins. Novak sighed and ran his beautiful tail along Dean's deformed appendage. 

"I don't care," Novak said, smiling with pity. 

Dean clawed at his knees, trying desperately to pry them apart. It was too late and he was sinking, Novak's tail slip sliding as he tried to hang on to no avail while Dean was sucked towards the abyss. 

* * * 

Dean woke with a racing heart and a choking feeling in his throat. What he saw before him was more nightmarish than his dream. There was someone in the cave, a hulking shadow with impossibly long limbs. A tentacle was looped twice around his neck and Dean could see the iridescent grey blue glow of Crowley's eyes behind the twisting arms. Dean's legs are restrained together by a thick tentacle, another wriggled up along his chest and slithered over his face. 

"I already have a boyfriend," Dean managed to gasp, spitting out a suction cup that was slipping between his teeth. 

Crowley couldn't speak when he was in full morphe but his beak screeched. 

"He gave me this," Dean had managed to pull out the shell blade and he sliced clean through the thin tactile tentacle in front of his face. 

Crowley screamed and backed into the shadowy mouth of the cave, bending his body in a sickening manner to fit through the small hole he had made through Dean's defences. 

"I hope that was an important body part," Dean said righteously even as the tentacle continued to writhe on the ground. "One that doesn't grow back." 

Dean began to tear down the makeshift barrier, the morning light pouring through as each rock was removed. There was no trace of Crowley by the time Dean was done. Dean put on Novak's jacket and packed up the food, weaponry and water. There was no way he could wait out the rest of the competition in the cave now that Crowley knew his location. Dean decided since he had already fought Raphael and Crowley that he was now certainly a known threat. He may has well act like one. Dean deliberately headed away from where Charlie and Eileen were holed up, he could at least keep Crowley away from them. 

To stay off the beach, Dean walked along the natural rock ledge along the sea-cliffs. There were gulls nesting along the narrow rocky outcrop and he managed to get some eggs for food. Several miles into the walk, a ringing call overhead drew Dean's attention upward. A pair of mated sea eagles were gliding overhead, calling to each other as they hunted. Just behind them, on a high cliff, stood Novak. He was hundreds of yards away and still Dean could tell he was staring. Dean stopped and stared back. After a moment of eternity, Novak inclined his head in a distant greeting. Then he spread his arms and fell forward, headlong into the ocean. It was hard to see from afar but Dean saw a flash of silver glint in the sun and then Novak's silhouette looked more streamlined. He had tailed out mid fall, or mid dive rather. Dean knew he should have headed the other way, after all in this contest Novak was just as likely to attack him as Raphael or Crowley had. Yet Dean found himself running, slip and sliding down dangerous inclines, heart in his throat from excitement as he headed down towards the surf. The waves on the rock platform were hazardous, threatening to knock Dean off the slippery stonestacks and drag him out to sea. Still Dean ran along the rock-pools carelessly, sprawling out on the very edge on his stomach to look for Novak in the turbulent water. 

At first there was nothing, then a ripple and a darkening of the water before Novak broke the surface. His hair plastered across his forehead and his tail impossible to see properly in the foaming waves. 

"I've been running away from you since you got here. To keep them away from you." 

Dean could have wept at the sound of Novak's hoarse voice, the weary gravelly sound of it made his stomach flutter. 

"And I've been chasing after you," Dean declared, suddenly understanding why he had not wanted to sit back and wait. 

"Why can't you just do what you're told?" 

"Do you?" Dean asked, the smile on his face was so big it was hurting. 

"I left you with supplies, you were safe, and I led them away from the cave. I bade Gadreel to protect you and left Balthazar to keep watch over you." 

"Gadreel was the first to go and Balthazar left the island yesterday." 

"I know, my people are running this fiasco. There's only Charlie, Eileen and Meg left of the females. Crowley, Raphael and Gabriel are the only remaining males." 

"And you and me," Dean said. "So you gonna stay down there?" 

"Maybe I like it better this way," Novak said belligerently. 

"You're shivering," Dean pointed out. "And your fingertips are gonna get scraped off soon." 

Novak rolled his eyes but allowed Dean to reach down and grab him by the forearms. He had already shifted as he emerged from the water, his legs kicking off the side of the rock platform to help him climb onto solid ground. Dean peeled off the jacket and draped it around Novak's shoulders. 

"So where do you guys get pants from? Every time you shift, you'd need new pants." 

Novak slipped his arms into the trench coat sleeves, fastening the coat tight around his waist with ties. 

"That's why the traditional Mer ensemble is robes," Novak stated, his eyes glaring at Dean. "Seriously, that's the first thing you ask?"

"Must go through a lot of pants, hybrid like you," Dean said casually. 

Novak froze for a second then shrugged. "I order in bulk from eBay and have them delivered to the Embassy." 

"So you wanna tell me something about yourself? You know like your real name or what a hybrid is?" 

"Got somewhere safe to go Dean?" 

Dean thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Yeah, the safest. Let's go back to the cave." 

Novak raised an eyebrow. 

"Crowley wouldn't expect us there, since he's already found it once." 

"Or he might just come back to make sure." 

Dean smiled, feeling brazen now that Novak was with him again. "Don't worry, I'll defend you." 

Novak hesitated but gave in. 

"You better Dean," he said. "Did you save me some abalone?" 

"Come back to mine and find out," Dean smirked, throwing his arm around Novak's shoulders. He felt a little drunk and a lot ecstatic as Novak subtly leaned in, his damp trench coat pressing on Dean's bare arm, warm and tacky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We should find out who wins next chapter and more on the mystery of Cas’ pants too (sort of).


	10. The Fighter

"So just you and me, sitting in the dark." Dean rubbed his hands together. 

Novak was leaning against the cave wall, playing with his blade. It was beautiful to see at close range, balanced and polished. It looked more stainless steel than silver, with a long thick handle, tapering where Novak's hand grasped it. Novak alternated between different holds as his eyes drooped meditatively, he was a little lost in his thoughts. Dean wondered if the metal would be warm to the touch. 

After a long internal struggle, Dean gave in to his impulses. 

"Can I hold it?" He asked softly, ducking his head in embarrassment. 

Novak looked up with a start, the spinning blade stilling in his hand. 

"Hold out your hand and do not be surprised." 

Dean wondered why Novak would issue such a caution. He had picked up Balthazar's blade in the middle of a fight and not taken much notice. Though the way in which Novak toyed with the weapon intrigued Dean. He took hold of it carefully. 

"Why would I ... oh it's warm," Dean gasped. The blade was almost hot to the touch, the heat pulsing beneath the surface, undulating from tip to pommel. "It feels like a heartbeat. How is that possible?" 

"This is precious to me, Dean," Novak said in a low murmur. "I would not entrust it to anyone but you." 

Dean ran his finger along the side of the pommel, his hand shaking a little as he gingerly kissed the tip of it with the pad of an index finger. The metal felt rounded and not at all sharp. 

"It likes you," Novak commented at Dean's puzzled look. "But enough of that, I'm beginning to get jealous." 

Dean watched the blade disappear up Novak's trench coat sleeve. There was no fire so Novak was still damp from the sea. Though it seemed illogical, Dean thought Novak looked cold, there was a pale lilac sheen to Novak's lips and his eyes were fever bright and sunken by the light of the luminescent lichen on the cave walls. 

"What are we gonna do?" Dean asked again after a few moments of awkward silence. 

"Do we have to DO something?" Novak raised an eloquent eyebrow as if daring Dean to say more. 

"We could uh talk or something," Dean suggested. "Get to know each other a little more ... Jimmy." 

Novak smirked at the use of the first name. "Please Dean, you can stick with Novak." 

"Did you like the dried meat?" Dean cast around for a topic of conversation, it was difficult to talk to Novak in such close quarters when he was sitting so near and smelt so good. Like salt and vanilla mixed through with rain. 

"Rabbit was it? The wild peppermint was a nice accompaniment." 

"And how was the abalone?" 

"Deliciously smoked, thank you Dean." 

"Would you want to marry me?" 

Novak laughed as Dean blurted out the words. "What, because you can make a decent meal out of meagre ingredients?" 

"If you weren't chasing after some Mer royal, would you want to marry someone like me?" 

"Like you? Or actually you?" 

Dean huffed in frustration. "Can't you ever give a straight answer?" 

"Not straight, no." 

Dean could see the glint of Novak's incisors as his lips parted in a coy grin. Dean grunted and bumped his shoulder into Novak's. "You're the worst, seriously." 

"Speaking of offering up ourselves to aristocrats, would you marry Castiel, if by some wild chance it is him who is seeking a mate?" 

Dean thought about it for a minute. "Depends, is he anything like you?" 

"Perhaps a little." 

Dean murmured bitterly "Still wouldn't actually be you though." 

"Castiel is bolder and more strategic. His life is complicated. If anything I would pity the one who marries him because Castiel is trouble. He brings with him all the weight of the crown, the dissent of political fractions, people and Mer alike follow him though he is often misguided despite good intentions." 

"Bit of a jerk is he?" 

"Complete dickhead," Novak smiled. 

"But you want him," Dean swallowed the words 'and not me'. "Lucky bastard." 

"Your life would be completely changed," Novak said slowly. "I've watched you Dean, going about your comfortable life. A steady job, a nice apartment, vintage car."

"Those aren't things I was born to," Dean corrected Novak. "I might look like some middle class douche to you now but when Sam and I were kids things were not normal. Our dad went missing when Sam was only a baby and our mom started teaching us survival skills. A shit load of camping up in the mountains. She was an outdoorsy type and fierce too, could fight off mountain lions, did fight off mountain lions. A lioness of a woman and I freaking worshipped her. Well, till the day she dropped me and my kid brother at Bobby's house, told us he would take good care of us and then vanished herself." 

Novak listened to Dean's tale quietly, his arm wrapped around Dean's shoulders, his palm pressing warmly on Dean's bicep. Dean found himself leaning into the warmth of Novak's side. 

"I don't wanna live life the way she did, much as I still love her with every fibre of my being. Sam's adventurous like her, but I learnt everything I could from Bobby about being an ordinary guy, living an average life." 

"I would hardly describe Bobby Singer as an ordinary man," Novak remarked. "He is a good person and that's quite extraordinary." 

"What do you know about Bobby?" 

"He's the one who started the Swamps, convinced his superiors that refugees can't just be tanked indefinitely. Using the flooded lands for that purpose was a stroke of genius." 

"Yeah, Bobby's been more of a father to Sam and I than our real parents. I mean I remember my dad, he was a gentle guy who just loved cars and my mom really. Sam doesn't remember him at all. He was lost at sea of course, which might explain why Sam works on the ocean now and I can't even swim to save my life." 

"Is that why?" Novak sounded genuinely curious.

"I'm terrified of the water," Dean admitted. "I still get these drowning nightmares too." 

"You're a mess," Novak said without any malice. 

"I'm a hot mess," Dean added. 

Novak laughed and turned his head and Dean froze, all the hair on the back of his neck standing up as Novak's warm breath wafted past his ear. Novak was fucking nuzzling his neck. Dean held as still as he could, absolutely refusing to do anything to jeopardise the moist heat gliding over his skin. Till a shuddering sigh escaped him and Novak pulled away with a moan. 

"Shit," he was touching his mouth like he had no idea if it had a mind of its own, abruptly, he stood up. "I'm going to go outside, for some reason or another." 

Dean sat dumbfounded as Novak marched towards the mouth of the cave. With unexpected speed, Dean grappled his hand with Novak's, their fingers threading together. 

"I just want to sleep with you!" Dean blurted out. 

Novak scowled back. 

"Just huddling together for warmth, sleeping with no kissing or touching or anything like that. I just want to sleep with you so bad." 

"I am tired, are you?" 

"So fucking exhausted." 

"You will not tempt me with your wiles?" Novak asked, only half joking. 

Dean shook his head vehemently. "I'll be snoring and farting all night, promise." 

Dean was utterly taken aback when Novak lied down in the driest corner of the cave, pressing his back into the wall and pulled Dean down to nest with him. Dean's spine snuggled against Novak's chest, where the beat of his heart was rapid in the darkness. Much to Dean's own bewilderment, he fell instantly asleep. 

* * * 

"What's that sound?" Dean's brain was abuzz when he woke up suddenly. 

It was the middle of the night. Novak stirred back into consciousness, stretching out the arm he held around Dean's chest. 

"I'll go check it out." Dean volunteered. 

"Stay," Novak said firmly, his voice husky from sleep. 

Dean could see the flash of silver as Novak armed himself and then he was gone. Dean waited half a second before scrambling to his feet and following. It was very dark at the mouth of the cave, the night sky unfathomably covered in storm clouds. A brief flash of lightning showed Dean Novak about five meters ahead, searching the rocky outcrop with a methodical scan of his head. What Novak couldn't see was Crowley perched upside down above the opening of the cave. Dean could see Crowley in all his foul-some glory for the first time. He was decidedly a cephalopod rather than a mer, his lower-body a flung out web of thick pale grey tentacles. Inexplicably he was wearing a smart suit on his top half, while his legs writhed over the stones. The rain was pouring down. 

To Dean's horror, Novak didn't sense Crowley's tentacles silently inching towards him. Dean leapt with uncanny speed and grabbed two handfuls of slimy muscle, pulling as hard as he humanly could, hearing the soft popping of suction cups as Crowley detached inch by inch from his anchor point. 

Novak whirled around at the sound of grappling and slashed forward with his blade. 

"Hey!" Dean cried out as he ducked. 

He could see the shocked scowl on Novak's face and the sudden pause in his forward movement. It dawned on Dean that Novak could not see nearly as well as Dean could. The thunder drowned out Novak's panted "Dean?" 

Crowley took the opportunity of momentary confusion to pull free, swinging around abruptly towards Novak. He had seen Novak's momentary faltering and sought to wrap a tentacle around his ankle. Novak jumped just in time and he began to rotate his blade in a wheeling formation.

"Step back Dean," he warned and began to advance towards Crowley fearlessly. 

It was obvious to Dean that Novak was relying on his skill rather than his senses. He seemed to move slowly but purposefully. When the lightning flashed again, Novak honed in on Crowley, whose recoiling scramble loosened more rocks. The rolling of the stones seemed to help Novak orientate himself, his hand lashed out and took a good chunk off one of Crowley's tentacles. Crowley grimaced but did not make a sound, his eyes flashing white in the gloom stared fixedly at Dean. Then Dean realised what he was doing a split second before he pitched a rock towards Dean. 

Novak growled "Leave him out of it Crowley. Dean, get safe." 

Crowley did not reply, instead he slithered full speed towards Novak, tentacles travelling ahead of his torso. A couple more rocks were thrown towards Dean to distract Novak. It worked, Novak was moving towards Dean, right into the path of Crowley. The Cepha threw himself into the close quarters fight by wrapping four tentacles around Novak, tightening them all at once as if to squeeze the life out of the Mer. 

Then with a jerking movement Novak was flung off the edge of the sea-cliff. 

Dean’s heart sunk. He felt the aching squeeze in his chest but Novak’s last command rang in his ears. He ran for the cave and hoped that he could squeeze into a small enough crevice so he could jump out at Crowley when he inevitably followed. 

The rain was pouring incessantly now and Dean felt low and cold. Novak was in the ocean, IF he had been alive when cast into it. Dean hoped Charlie and Eileen were safe. He thought of Kevin who was at least out of the race and presumably doing okay back home and of his brother who was still under the delusion that this was all some sort of merry game. The cave was flooding from the rain, the brine pool at the back of it quickly rising. There was nothing dry left to light a fire, even if Dean had any tinder to hand. The rain sounded like a hurricane at the end of the world outside and Dean huddled cold and alone. It was mere three days ago when he was warm and secure in his apartment, longing after an exotic newcomer. Now Novak was ... 

The bubbling in the brine pool looked strange. There was a monstrous shape in it. What Dean saw made him shudder, a pale shape with a silvery tail, flopping out of the water. Then a muddy struggle and Novak was standing in front of him, naked, his blade in hand and pointed towards Dean’s heart. 

Dean had no idea what happened next. Only that he felt Crowley’s tentacles tangle around his throat. Novak stumbled forward, falling to his knees, the blade clattering to the ground. 

There was a tearing sound, like bone ripping through sinew, and Dean was suddenly rolling along the ground and grabbed a hold of the blade, spinning as he turned and stabbed Crowley right in the ink sack. The spillage had looked dark as blood and Dean thought for a horrified second that he had killed Crowley. There was only hissed screaming and lashing tentacles as Crowley morphed back into his terrestrial form. He staggered out of the cave and disappeared. Dean looked down at his ink covered hands and shuddered. Novak struggled to his feet and reached for him, grabbing him by the wrist and gently prying the blade out of his grasp. 

"We need to move," Novak said but Dean noticed the slight tremor in his voice. 

Novak must have swum upstream through some underground salt ravine all the way to the top of the sea-cliff and into the cave. As far as strength and athleticism went, Dean was floored by Novak’s prowess. It had cost the Mer though, Novak ran slower than Dean remembered he could. They dashed through the jungle under cover of darkness, waiting for the flare to light up for Crowley but never seeing any. There was no sound of helicopter either. 

"Something is wrong," Novak panted, doubling over. 

"Tell me about it," Dean said. "I stabbed him in his sac!" 

"You need to keep running," Novak said. "This is not working to plan. Raphael is not here for a marriage, you need to get as far away from him as you can. Go hide with Charlie and Eileen. Please." 

"And leave you when you're injured?" 

"I'm not injured," Novak hissed. 

"If you're not injured then you're sick," Dean pulled Novak's arm over his shoulder, holding up his weight. "You couldn't see Crowley at all and you can barely move." 

"It's nothing." 

"If you don't let me help you, I'll flare you myself," Dean threatened. "Cut off something you can live without and get the medical attention you need." 

"You wouldn't break a single hair," Novak said, his voice shaky. "I'm everything you ever dreamed of. Besides, there are no more flares." 

Dean stopped dead. They were far enough away from the cave now to take in their surroundings. The buzz was gone. The drones that followed them around since the day they got on the island were absent, had been absent for almost a day. Dean just hadn't noticed. 

"Raphael was never here to marry the prince," Novak said. "It took me too long to work it out, but this isn't a marriage rite anymore, this is an assassination." 

"Him and Crowley and Gabriel will have to get through me first," Dean said, a rush of blood to his head. 

"Gabriel would never turn against us," Novak reassured him. "But I doubt it would be much effort for them to get through you. Or, I don't know, maybe you'll put up a fight as good as the one you just gave Crowley." 

Dean nodded gravely. "Long as there's no swimming, I'll give them a good show." 

"Maybe you'll suddenly gain the ability to swim," Novak said sarcastically. "Just like how Crowley is suddenly on Raphael's side. I wonder what else is in store for us." 

They set off in the direction of the hidden valley. The sky gradually lightening as they walked laboriously. When they arrived, Dean found the hanging cabin crashed to the bottom of the valley floor. Charlie and Eileen were gone. Novak was no longer talking or walking. He was shaking in a feverish dream when Dean laid him gently onto what was left of the cracked bamboo floor of the hideout. There was a broken vessel laying about with barely a mouthful of water inside, which Dean tried to get past Novak's gritted teeth. 

In exasperation, he leant down and whispered: "Please, it's only me." 

Then pressed his lips softly to Novak's. Novak's lips were dry and hot, Dean moistened them with the tip of his tongue, patiently coaxing until Novak opened his mouth. Dean sipped the water and slowly dribbled it into Novak's mouth. Noticing that Novak's gills were slitting as they kissed, Dean dipped his fingers into the water and carefully wet the sensitive slits. Novak gasped deeply and his eyes opened.

"Dean, I need," Novak blinked and licked his lips ineffectually. "You." 

Dean vowed, then and there, that he and Novak were going to make it off the island together or not at all.


	11. The Champion

"If things go to shit, look to the star," Charlie said, raising a glass of ginger ale over FaceTime. 

"How bad can it get? I mean it's just the Bachelorette without air conditioning right?" Dean sipped on a craft beer while Sam researched the island frantically on his laptop. 

* * * 

Dean found the tiny star carved on a coconut tree, hidden behind a purple orchid. Below the mark of the star were two arrows. One pointed towards the north with the letters C&E, the other was due south and accompanied by MM. 

"I can figure out the first sign, it tells us where Charlie and Eileen have gone but the other arrow I don't understand." 

"Meg Masters," Novak said hoarsely. "Of course it's her." 

* * * 

Dean wished Novak would save his strength but he insisted on not letting Dean out of his sight. As soon as Novak had awakened from his blackout, he insisted on moving on from the valley, concerned that Crowley or worse Raphael would find them there. Dean managed to convince Novak to stay horizontal until he was hydrated. To get Novak something to drink, Dean aimed his shell knife at a bird nest, somehow managing to strike it down with one throw. He caught the falling nest, the blade lodged into its side and the precious seagull egg still intact. Novak gagged a little as he drank down the yolk, while Dean gently teased him about being a fussy eater. 

"Don't Mer prefer everything raw?" Dean had said. 

"The only thing I like raw is sushimi," Novak had said in his low voice, grimacing as he swallowed. "When it comes to food." 

Dean blushed as Novak took a long pause, unsure if Novak was insinuating or trying not to throw up. Novak stared at Dean's reddened cheeks with dazed eyes, then blinked and muttered: "I can see the blood pulse beneath your skin, fast as your heart hastens at my attention." 

Dean didn't know if he should be flattered or worried. He settled for very worried since Novak could barely move but insisted on climbing out of the valley. Dean ended up scavenging some rope from Charlie's hideout and tying one end of it to Novak's waist and the other to his own, fastening it in a love knot that Mary had taught him to make as a child. Novak fingered the heart-shaped knot at his hip and complimented it. Dean told him to shut up and watch his footing. The valley walls were steep but Dean scrambled up at a pace that would have impressed even Sam who was an avid rock climber. Maybe it was all the fresh air and sunlight, Dean felt stronger than he ever did. A couple of times, he dragged Novak up by sheer force, when Novak was too out of it to notice. 

Above the valley, the landscape was more arid. The northern side of the island was more exposed to the wind and the sun, the plant life more sparse and spiky. One good thing was that a Mer in their marine form would dry out real quick, though of course maybe Raphael was determined enough to stay in his terrestrial form. Though they had eaten well the night before and Novak had been made to eat the gull egg that morning, Dean could hear his stomach rumbling within hours of emerging from the valley. Maybe it was the fever Novak was fighting, he was burning through his energy reserve quickly. Dean felt a strange sense of calm as he scanned the landscape for nourishment, all of his subsistence training kicking in. There were bright jewelled globes adorning the cactus plants, covered in fine spines. Dean carefully peeled the prickly pears with his knife, tasting a segment to make sure it was fine. The fruits were lightly sweet and juicy, Dean stuffed Novak with them, patiently carving out each segment of flesh as they sheltered beneath the shade of a rock. 

Despite Novak's increasingly stumbling pace, they made it to the northern beach head of the island within a couple of hours. 

"There they are!" Dean gestured from their hiding spot, Novak squinted and shook his head. 

"I don't see anything." 

"Far off, by the wharf, I can see Charlie and Eileen!" 

Novak blinked and stared, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Dean, that's miles away, I can't even tell if you're looking at people or sea birds." 

"So much for Mer vision," Dean quirked his lips. "But I like your baby blues anyway." 

Novak gave Dean a feeble push. "Tell me what's happening." 

"They're fighting, not with each other but uh someone in the water. They got a boat from the lighthouse." 

"There's a lighthouse? Of course," Novak furrowed his brows, a fine sheen of sweat gathering over his features. "I should have thought of that, I saw it on the island map before we headed out." 

"You had a map to the island?" Dean said in disbelief. "How?" 

"I chose this island, for its diverse landscape and relative proximity to the mainland. Plus it is in a neutral zone." 

"Castiel let you select the location and put you in the game? How deep are you in with the royal family?" 

"It's not exactly a family, not by blood anyway. Though I suppose there is kinship amongst a few of us, Hannah, Gadreel, Gabriel, Balthazar and I are close. There's also the bond of hybrids, adversity affirms loyal friends. And of course, alliances are an integral part of it all. Enough politics, tell me how the fight is going?" 

"Charlie's winning, as expected." Dean stared for a while. "I think she's got the creature, by the hair? It looks like Meg but she moves like a Mer in the water. By the way, I like talking politics with you, you always sound so annoyed by it."

"Meg is a one of us masquerading as a human," Novak explained.

"What? How? I didn't get that tingly feeling down my spine when I met her," Dean insisted. "She can't be." 

"She's very good at her job," Novak said blithely. "I doubt your Piscean detector senses are working properly, Dean." 

Dean was baffled by the confident statement. Novak was either feverishly not making sense or doing that thing he liked where he dropped clues only to confuse matters more. 

"Update on the fight?" 

"Eileen's gone into the water and I think she's kicking Meg." 

"As far as I could see, you only had eyes for me," Novak said, referring back to Dean's question about his faltering Mer-radar. "I doubt you could sense anyone even if they slapped you with their flippers." 

"Would you, uh, do that to me?" Dean suddenly demanded. His heart in his throat. 

Novak was glassy eyed and licking his cracked lips. "If I had my way, I would take you to the breeding reef right now and you would not be dry for days. But that's after winning, of course. Speaking of winning, is Charlie?"

"Meg has been caught and hog tied with vines, she's in the boat with Eileen and Charlie. Charlie is starting the motor again. I think she's going to leave the island!"

"Smart girl, she's figured out that Raphael has destroyed all the drones, and what he plans to do," Novak grinned bleakly and grasped Dean by the shoulder. "Listen carefully, if you run at full speed and shout for her, she'll hear you and take you off the island. You'll be safe." 

"Do I have to say it? It's so cliched," Dean sighed. "I'm not leaving you." 

"I will deal with Crowley and Raphael!" Novak set his jaw stubbornly. 

Dean crossed his arms, just as wilfully. "Make me." 

"Fine!" Novak took out his blade and held it. 

"It's wilting," Dean said in shock. 

There was definitely a strange bluntness to the weapon, it looked bent and misshapen. Novak cursed and it disappeared up his sleeve again. 

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Novak said defensively. "Not in front of someone anyway. It's never happened to me before." 

Dean nodded kindly. "Okay, sure, you're sick. That's normal for a hybrid Mer weapon?" 

"No," Novak insisted. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, Dean." 

"Right," Dean was swallowing a soft laugh now. "So while we were discussing your dysfunctional weapon, Charlie has gone." 

Novak wiped his hand over his face, his perspiration soaked hair spiking up where he ran his fingers through it in frustration. 

"It'll be dark soon and you need your beauty sleep." 

"Do I really look that bad?" Novak flicked his eyes to Dean. 

Dean regarded the Mer, his skin darkened by the sun, his cheeks emblazoned, his open trench coat revealing a long tanned line of chest, a bead of sweat trickling down into a dampened trail of hair low on his abdomen. Dean's mouth was suddenly filled with saliva which he gulped. 

"You look terrible," Dean said resolutely. 

* * * 

"I thought the idea was to stay out of sight?" 

Dean ignored Novak's question and set up their makeshift shelter beside a fresh water stream. He moved monolithically large river rocks around and fashioned them into a naturalistic looking shelter. In the falling dusk light, it really was hard to distinguish from the other boulders along the river bank. Dean led Novak by the hand towards the water. 

"Aren't you scared?" 

Dean waded in till the water rose to his nipples, Novak floating slightly, his arms twined around Dean's shoulders. 

"You need to cool off," Dean scooped a handful of water over Novak's cheeks. "You're burning up." 

"Been like that, since I saw you," Novak murmured into Dean's ear. "Instant, burning, fire. Can't even stay away, tried but can't." 

Dean shushed him gently but Novak was ranting now. 

"You don't know how much you've messed up my plans. As complicated as things were, I knew what I had to do. Save the crown, forestall the prophecy, get an apartment in New York. The last one is a personal dream, for when my mission is complete and I can retire from the sea. Instead I've had to tell you lies, so many lies." 

Dean pulled Novak in by his collar, carefully tugging him ashore. "I know Cas." 

Novak glared at Dean, his teeth chattering as the cool night wind blew through his wet clothes. 

"That's what I'd call you, if your real name is Castiel," Dean pulled an innocent face, stretching out his arms as he helped Novak out of his clothes. "Whatever your name is, you're still a complete ass." 

"Adorable ass," Novak rambled, stepping out of his wet pants. "As you can see." 

Dean wrapped Novak up in the trench coat and shyly pressed their chests together for warmth. 

"I'm not going to ogle you when you're unwell," Dean said after a breathless moment. "Oh, come on, don't give me that look, I saved your life like how many times today?" 

Novak turned watery eyes to Dean and even in the fading light Dean could see his pout. 

"As far as saving my life goes, you've been a real champ, Dean," Novak conceded. "But is your protection worth losing my soul over? You're driving me out of my mind." 

"I'll do whatever you want, whatever makes you happy," Dean said eagerly. "How do I fix you?" 

"I'm not the one that needs fixing!" Novak croaked. "Don't you get it yet? Do what makes you happy Dean!"

So Dean did. Grabbed Novak by his muscled back and wrapped his leg around the curve of a sharp hipbone. Novak went still and compliant for a second, melting into Dean. Then as Dean let his guard down, Novak had a forearm locked in the soft give of Dean's neck and pinned Dean's chest down with the weight of his body. Dean could see Novak's gills flaring open from excitement, sucking air rapidly into his lungs. Novak's chest heaved heavily once, twice. Then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he passed out. 

Dean caught Novak just before he hit the ground, his palms cradled around his skull. He spent the night making Novak comfortable, cooling him down with wet cloths and waking him up intermittently to drink. Dean noticed the dark red veining that webbed out from Novak's gills. Even when his body shut them down and morphed back, the angry lines of infection were still visible beneath the human skin. 

"What is going on," Dean whispered as he cared for Novak, or Castiel, or whoever this guy was. This guy that Dean had fallen for. 

By dawn, Raphael had discovered them. He came over the rocky outcrop, followed by Crowley. Crowley was attached to a captive Gabriel, two of his tentacles latched around Gabriel's throat and wrists. 

"Castiel," Raphael leered. "So much for your awesome reputation." 

Novak was unconscious, lying alone and vulnerable beneath a river boulder. 

"Glad you turned to the victorious side?" Raphael asked Crowley. 

"I'm not sure yet," Crowley replied briefly, sending out a third tentacle to tie Gabriel's ankles together. 

The tightening restraints forced Gabriel to kneel down on the ground, though he refused to make any sounds of weakness. 

As Raphael reached forward to check Novak's pulse, Crowley felt a cool sensation at the base of his spine. By the time he looked down, half of his tentacles had been sliced clean off. Crowley fell to his side in a comical toppling motion, his face pale with horror. There was no blood loss since he was in his Cepha form and so long as he maintained it he stood a chance of surviving and in time growing back his limbs. If he were to morph now, he would be bleeding out from a missing leg. 

Dean tore the dying tentacles from Gabriel's hands and feet, Gabriel choking as the one around his neck spasmed. 

Novak managed a surprise strike to Raphael's front, but his blade missed the face and lodged in his shoulder instead. Raphael morphed and lashed out with his sting but Dean had grabbed his tail with his bare hand. With a pull, Raphael fell forward, while Novak just managed to roll out of the way. Dean was holding Novak's blade and though it looked the worse for wear, it proved as sharp as ever. Lodging into Raphael's sting and splitting it right down the end. Raphael screamed and clawed at Dean, but Dean was faster and stronger in all his fury. He caught Raphael's hands and pushed him backwards, lunging at his throat. 

All Dean could remember was the burst of blood over his jaw and the flooding heat that poured down his chest. Then there were hands, pulling him back and a voice calling his name. 

Dean turned to focus on Novak. On the colour of his eyes and the symmetry of his face, on the lilt of his voice and husk of his breath. Raphael forgotten, in a defeated slump on the ground, Gabriel trying to stem the blood flow. 

"The lighthouse, use it to signal for help. I'll tell you the direction to point it in as soon as I stop vomiting," Novak said, his face green as he looked at Crowley and Raphael. 

"They'll live," Gabriel said, his eyes sparkling and rounded with shock as he scanned Novak and Dean. "I'll run up and signal, you better keep an eye on Dean. In case he eats one of them, or both." 

"He won't," Novak was stroking Dean's face, like a rider calming a spooked stead. 

"Just in case, uh Deano, I'm Gabriel, remember me? I concede defeat to you unequivocally. For the record. Just don't go primal on me, okay?" 

"Go!" Novak sounded pissed. 

Dean wiped his mouth on the back of his forearm, ignoring the salty sweet scent of victory splashed all over his skin. "He doesn't need to, they're coming. There's a speedboat about fifty nautical miles to the east." 

"He can fucking see that?" Gabriel gasped. "You wanna tell us who is on it too?" 

"Sam, Charlie, Hannah and someone I haven't met before," Dean inclined his head. "I can't see their faces from this far but I can smell them and hear their heartbeats." 

"Okay Derek Hale," Gabriel whistled, impressed. "You got anything else to say?" 

"No," Dean's attention withdrew from the ocean and slowly returned to his immediate surroundings. "Except, I'm glad you proclaimed your inferiority to me. You may leave with your life." 

"Fucking ridiculous," Gabriel hissed to Novak. "You into this posturing?" 

"Dean can pull it off if anyone can," Novak said forgivingly. "He's not well but if I know Hannah, I know she'll be coming here with a solution." 

The three of them slowly made their way to the lighthouse, dragging Crowley and Raphael with them. The tiny boat ramp was already docked by the time they got there. Sam was the first to run up, hugging Dean tight and tearily helping him wipe the blood off his face. Dean was blinking like a man waking from a bad dream. Hannah showed more restraint in greeting Novak, but she was just as quick to pull him into a hug. 

"You need to be treated immediately," she said as she released him. "The mating secretion has built up to toxic levels, both you and your intended must be mated or cleansed." 

"I won't breed him," Novak said quickly, his voice low and certain. "There must be another way." 

"Of course there is, Castiel, my friend." 

Dean looked up at the unassuming looking man clumsily disembarking from the speed boat. He looked to be in his early forties, was slim and a little weary looking. His eyes shone with intelligence and his smile was likeable. 

"Professor Shurley," the man offered his hand to Dean, his bright eyes looking Dean up and down. "Look at you, aren't you just a marvellous creation?" 

Dean clasped the hand proffered. 

"I've worked under Professor Shurley's guidance for years," Sam was saying. "You can trust him, he won't hurt you." 

"Hurt me?" Dean's muscles tensed as he sensed the danger enclosing, he reached instinctively for Novak but it was too late, Hannah was holding onto him and stopping him from reaching Dean. 

The syringe was lightly jabbed into Dean's neck, Professor Shurley's hand barely shaking as he administered it. 

"Just something to make you sleep and calm," the professor's voice was already drifting away. 

Dean could see Novak staring at him, his mouth open and his eyes desperate, but Dean was already gone.


	12. The Trespasser

Dean knew he was dreaming. The tank was as small as ever, as suffocating and putrid as it always was in these dreams. His vision drifted around the scratched glass, marked by frantic helpless clawing, and his eyes found a tiny patch through which he could see clearly. 

He saw himself, as a dark haired young man, standing on the other side of the tank. His face full of pity. A hand reached out and touched the glass across from his claw.

"Dean, wake up!" 

* * * 

Sam's was the first face he saw, he was shouting excitedly towards the door of the cabin. The room was swaying but Dean didn't think it was the after effects of the sedation. They were on a ship, much larger than the speed boat by the feel of it. Dean doesn't remember ever being on a ship before, his fear of drowning made cruises an unlikely holiday option. 

"It's been three days," Sam was using his soothing voice. "Professor Shurley will be with us in a moment, he went to grab something to eat. How you feeling?" 

"Like I've been unconscious for three days," Dean grunted. "Fantastic! I feel like the entire seawall had fallen on me." 

"The professor said you would be sore." 

"Oh please, do we have to call him that? I already put on enough of an X-Men freak show back there, now there's a professor?" 

Just as Dean complained, the said expert in Mer biology wandered into the cabin, a plate of Rueben sandwich in his hand. 

"You can call me Chuck, Dean. And you are right, you performed incredible feats on the island. Do you uh feel you could do them now?" 

Dean reached out and made a grab for the sandwich. Chuck scowled at him and held the plate tighter, Dean sighed after a few seconds. 

"Nope, can't even take a plate off a scientist." 

"To be fair, I'm very fond of pastrami. Though I forget if it is my favourite type of deli meat. That reminds me, I must try some others when we get back to the city." 

Dean shot Sam a look. "Is he always like this?" 

Sam was trying to hide his chuckle behind his hand. Dean knew that Sam was fond of his mentor and respected him, eccentricities and all. 

"I have long term memory loss," Chuck pointed at his head. "Although I prefer to think that's because I have devoted significant processing capacity to short term thinking." 

"Yeah, that sounds wonderfully strategic," Dean couldn't help but like the guy, though he felt the need to always watch his hands, Chuck was quick with a syringe and his face had hardly any tells. 

"We'll be back in the city tonight, if you're feeling up to going home?" Sam queried, darting his eyes to Chuck in deference. 

"We better keep Dean here for tonight, for observations obviously, and he really does need to rest."

"Been on my back for three days, I've had enough," Dean said. 

"What do you think awaits you on the mainland? You won the mating trials, it is customary for the intended to ..." Chuck paused as Sam kept waggling his eyebrows and tapping his pursed lips. 

"I forgot what I was about to say," Chuck said very slowly, while brazenly winking at Sam. 

Dean hoped they didn't expect him to spawn or whatever with Novak as soon as they got back. Novak had looked a complete wreck by the end of their island adventure. 

"Tell me how Novak, uh, Cas is doing," Dean sighed. 

"He has made a full recovery, Dean." Sam reassured. 

"Thanks to me," Chuck gave himself a thumbsup. "Good thing I was in the right place at the right time, I do have a knack for that." 

"So where is he then?" Dean shrugged. "I mean not that I was expecting him to be here sitting vigil over my bedside or anything but we did form a special bond on the island or something like that." 

Dean trailed off, studying his hands. They were all cut up with scratches that he didn't remember getting, probably while he was running or climbing or fighting. The cuts were all healing well, his hands looked human and vulnerable laid out over the edge of clean sheets. 

"Novak," Sam cut himself off. "Castiel is in the royal quarters considering his intentions." 

"Oh yeah, that sounds normal," Dean made a face. "What the fuck does that mean?" 

"He has to decide whether to propose to you, is the short version," Chuck looked uncomfortable. "The long version involves a public mating so I don't want to go into it." 

"He can't see you Dean, not until he's made his choice," Sam said. "He's been asking after you, a lot. I'm going to go and tell him you're up when we are through talking. He'll be excited." 

"For the record, Mer customs are dumb," Dean nodded. "Go tell him, Sam. I don't want him to worry." 

Sam smiled and gave Dean a clap on his back. "There were no drone footages for the last day and a half, so I don't know exactly what went down, but I gotta say good job Dean." 

Dean grinned as Chuck went looking for another snack and Sam went to tell Castiel the good news. It was still weird to call Novak 'Castiel' in his head. Maybe because Dean hadn't used it out loud yet. Sure he had alluded to Castiel that he knew but it still sounded strange. And what was all the new airs now that he was Castiel? Royal quarters? Dean couldn't imagine Novak, no Cas, in a crown sitting on some throne, planning out his royal mating. Though the last thought proved a nice distraction for a few minutes. 

When Dean was sure Chuck was lost in the kitchen and Sam was gone, he sat up on the bed and found his shoes. He didn't feel tired or injured, just muscle soreness like he had overdone it at the gym. While his minders were absent, Dean wanted to explore his surroundings. 

The ship was a lavishly appointed private cruiser. Here and there insignias of a Medusa could be seen emblazoned in black and gold. Dean walked away from the sound of crew members and headed for a quiet private balcony, climbing over the low railing as he trespassed. There was a small in ground hot tub, a pair of deck chairs and a side table holding a bottle of chilled wine. Dean sat down and helped himself to a glass, opening the bottle with a cheerful pop and sipping on the bubbling contents. The light in the suite attached to the balcony came on and a man in a silk dressing gown padded out, scowling at Dean. 

Castiel looked disgruntled and breathtaking now that his cheeks were a healthy pink and his olive toned skin looked fresh. His eyes semmed rounder and brighter and his lips looked supple and swollen where he bit them. 

"Of course it's you." Castiel rolled his eyes. "I was just down on my knees, praying for guidance and you show up." 

"You can get back down on them again, if you wanna," Dean grinned. "Nice boat, nice slippers."

Castiel looked down at the ground, Dean wasn't sure if he was considering dropping to one knee, or both knees or looking at the pearl adorned silk slippers on his feet. Turned out it was the last option. 

"Not my boat, nor my shoes," Castiel said, taking a seat in the chair opposite Dean. "This is Crowley's mother's pleasure cruiser The Sea Witch. Rowena offered it up as a gift to say thanks for sparing Crowley's life."

"Great, she's cursed it then, any icebergs ahead?" 

"She has sworn fealty and though I do not find it easy to trust the last known sea witch, I know I need one on my side," Castiel said. "Besides, Crowley needs Chuck's help to make a full recovery. The boat is not booby trapped, Dean." 

Dean raised his glass in toast. "To The Sea Witch. So, what were you praying for?" 

Castiel smiled faintly. "For you. I've done nothing but pray for you for the last two days. At first it was to beg for your recovery, then it was that when you are well you would still want me, finally it was to ask for grace to guide me in my decision regarding my marriage to you." 

Dean sat quietly dumbfounded for a few seconds, the momentousness of what Castiel was confirming was overwhelming. Of course he had been told many times by many different people and Mer alike that this was where participating in the mating trials could lead, of course he knew when he agreed to be Sam's champion, of course he suspected Novak was Castiel but the totality of it in reality still crept upon him unawares. 

"Who do you pray to?" Dean was surprised at his own question, he had been sure the words that were going to come out of his mouth would have been 'are you sure you want me?'. 

"The ocean, I don't know, some higher power," Castiel shook his head ruefully, a hint of the Novak Dean knew and loved resurfacing. "Technically, I'm supposedly the descendent of Poseidon, ruling by divine right, so I pretty much pray to anything out there that's not me. I'm only a god in a cultural myth, one that serves the royalists well."

"How can you be THE royal and talk about it like that?" 

"Oh, Hannah loves it, makes her job of holding together royalist alliances more interesting," Castiel smiled, eyes twinkling. He turned to Dean, his gaze pearlescent orbs in the moonlight. "I'm not supposed to see you, let alone talk to you, before the committing ceremony but I've never been good at following rules." 

"Then haven't you called your guards?" Dean asked softly. "Gadreel's gotta be within earshot?" 

"I sent him away, when I realised it was you who was sneaking into my quarters." 

"Not like I meant to find the most expensive looking set of rooms in the joint, assuming those must be the royal quarters," Dean smirked. 

"Not like I'm going to invite you into said rooms," Castiel replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in a manner that Dean found completely overly endearing. 

Castiel the royal was a little tamer than Novak the maverick, not that this was the whole truth of him thought Dean. Castiel was a little surer of himself and more considerate in his actions but the impulsiveness simmered just beneath the royal facade. They drank the champagne in companionable silence, watching the moon flitter behind dark clouds. When the wine was finished Castiel offered Dean his hand and led him into the rooms. The bedroom was adorned in rich tones of purple, everything was gilded and generous in their proportions. 

"Rowena's taste," Castiel gestured towards the canopied four poster bed. 

Dean didn't care, he needed to see Castiel in amidst the velvet and silk, craved the sight of bare skin against crimson hues. 

"Get on the bed, Cas," Dean ushered. 

"There are rules," Castiel stilled Dean's forward momentum with a hand in his chest. "Will you abide by them?" 

"Thought you didn't follow them," Dean frowned, his hands scrabbling at Castiel's waist. 

"I might not care for status or power as a so called prince, I do care that whoever I invite into my bed submit to my command." 

Castiel definitely looked smug as Dean swallowed. "You going fifty shades of blue on me Cas?" 

"Put your wrists together," Castiel said. "I don't trust you to not lose all self control." 

"Please, you think you are that good?" Dean raised his eyebrows. 

The answer was Castiel carefully looping his dressing gown waist tie around Dean's wrists and securing him to the headboard of the bed. 

"No fluid exchange of any sort," Castiel said, his mouth an inch from Dean's. "Keep your tongue out of my gills." 

"Keep your gills away from my tongue," Dean replied. 

"Keep that up and I will gag you, just so you know." 

"And I would hate that," Dean looked up at the canopy with an innocent smile. 

Castiel gave Dean a hard close mouthed kiss. Dean could feel the press of Castiel's teeth behind the plushness of his lips. It was not the most comfortable or sensual of kisses but Dean was suddenly extremely compliant. Castiel ran his palms over Dean's chest and shoulders, outwards in a sweeping motion, Dean's hips rippled off the bed in an embarrassingly violent fashion. 

"You okay?" Castiel stroked the back of his hand down the side of Dean's cheek. Dean locked his jaws, fighting the urge to open his mouth and chase Castiel's thumb, he was dying to lick and taste and savour. Dean nodded determinedly. 

"I think in this day and age marrying someone before you know whether you're physically compatible is a reckless thing to do," Castiel said slowly. "May I show you my body to see if it pleases you?" 

Dean was really proud of how he held himself together and just nodded. No whimpering or anything. 

The dressing gown was already half open, now Castiel took it off, throwing it to the foot of the bed. It was dark but the moonlight was just sufficient for Dean to see enough to completely lose it. Castiel pulled back, crouching at the base of a bed post and chuckled when Dean was done. 

"I thought you promised no fluids," Castiel said, eyes scanning over Dean's suddenly relaxed body. 

"I don't know what the fuck happened," Dean gasped, recovering his breath. "You look alright like that." 

"Can I come closer or are you going to shoot at me again?" Castiel asked suspiciously. 

"I'm not admitting to anything having happened," Dean retorted. "Get your ass over here." 

"Dean ..." 

A knock at the door made them both hush. 

"Be quiet," Castiel commanded and hastily pulled the drapes across the bed and turned on a bedside light. 

Dean curled up his legs when he realised his feet were still sticking out. 

"Don't answer it," he hissed at Castiel. 

"It's your brother," Castiel whispered back after getting down on the ground and peeking under the door. 

"Goddamnit Sammy," Dean looked up at the ceiling. "Tell him you're sleeping." 

"Castiel?" Sam's voice can be heard through the door. "Your lights are on again so I know you're awake. Chuck sent me. I forgot something." 

"What is it Sam?" Castiel replied in a calm voice. 

"When I came to tell you about Dean waking up, I forgot to give you a reminder from Chuck." 

"Oh yes, don't worry, he texted me a reminder," Castiel said. "Take the anti-virals, avoid exposure, no cross contamination." 

"Open the door Castiel or I'll go get Chuck." 

Castiel swore profanely under his breath. "Sure, let me just find something to wear." 

"Please do," Sam replied. 

Castiel made a second attempt at hiding Dean with the drapes, but the flimsy things were purely decorative and one panel actually fell down as Castiel yanked on it. Dean grunted and made himself as small as possible behind the one remaining bed curtain. Castiel ran a hand through his hair, in an attempt to make it look less sexy and failed utterly in Dean's opinion. 

"Okay Sam, what do you really want?" Castiel half opened the door and stood with his hand on his hip. 

"Chuck asked me to come here and beat around the bush, but I'm just too grossed out to do that okay," Sam said with a steady look. "We noticed Dean was gone and figured he is here. So can I have my brother back please, Chuck's orders." 

"Uh, I royally command you to butt out?" Castiel hazarded. 

Sam kept staring with his concerned eyes. 

"Butt out Sam!" Dean shouted from behind the canopy after a minute's impasse. "He knows I'm here Cas." 

"I can see your feet," Sam lowered his eyes to the carpet. "Look I don't wanna be here doing this but I gotta okay." 

"I have everything under control," Castiel said gravely. "Tell Chuck to mind his own business." 

"Chuck said you would say that, he asked me to remind you that he missed out on a lot of Netflix time over the last three days helping you and Dean recover. He said he wants to resume binging and wishes you guys wouldn't create more work for him." 

Castiel sighed. "I suppose I should be grateful to him for his intervention." 

"Tell Chuck I hate him," Dean yelled behind the curtain. 

It was a humiliating walk back to the infirmary. Dean slunk into the shower and changed into clean clothes Sam had brought him. The bunk was small but comfortable, but it felt too sanitised and sparse. Sam took up the bed built into the cabin wall on the other side of the room and meaningfully remained facing Dean as the lights went out. Through the cabin door, Dean could hear Chuck starting his Netflix marathon. 

Dean dared not think about what Castiel might be doing in that precise moment, alone and unfulfilled in his giant bed, just on the other end of the boat. Instead Dean thought about the nest Castiel had once made in his apartment, remembering the piled up warm comfort of it sent Dean into a sweet dream. In the dream Castiel gave him a Disney kiss as wedding bells rang out and cute baby doves flew into the sky and the golden sunset shone happily ever after. 

* * * 

Waking up the next morning turned out completely differently. The ship was all but abandoned. Sam alone stood with a backpack slung over his shoulders. They picked up Dean's car from the harbour car park. One exhorbatant parking bill later, they were on their way back to Dean's place. The hoard of journalists at the garage gates made them take a u-turn and high-tail it towards Sam's house. Dean checked his phone and saw a text from Bobby saying that he had been granted indefinite leave 'till the shit tide dies down', by which Dean assumed Bobby was referring to the media frenzy now that he had become the winner of the Mer mating trials and was presumably going to marry a sea prince. 

You'd think it was all pearls and dancing and high sea romance, Dean thought to himself as he dug through the drawers in Sam's spare room. Where was his fucking princess crown and animated pet sidekicks? 

"You got any underwear still in the packet?" Dean called out towards Sam's room. "And a toothbrush? And clothes that aren't NBA player sized?" 

Sam ignored Dean's shitty mood and came in with a basket of clean laundry and mercifully brand new underwear. 

"Charlie sent these here, she preempted we'd need to get away from the cameras." 

Dean nodded and picked up the clothes gratefully. 

"You okay?" Sam asked, the concern obvious in his voice. "I know you didn't plan on getting married this year, you know if you don't want to do it, you don't have to right? You can choose?" 

Dean looked up with startled eyes. "I'm not upset about that, Sam, I know what I want." 

"Oh," Sam's face was alight with understanding, then pity. 

"I don't know if he knows what he wants," Dean said. "If he really wants ... me." 

"I thought you guys were really into each other, from what I could see in the tv show about the island and the boat last night," Sam said awkwardly. 

"Physical attraction is one thing, I know I'm hot stuff," Dean joked half heartedly. "But getting married is a huge deal to me and who knows what it means for a Mer, THE royal Mer." 

"Well if I know anything in this world for sure Dean, I know that you can handle it," Sam said sincerely. "Whatever happens, however it happens, you'll come through it. Better and stronger than before. You did it when dad went missing and you did it when mom had to leave us. You're a surviver Dean and you thrive like nobody's business through change." 

Dean thought about his few years of fairly ordinary comfortable existence which was shattered the moment Castiel showed up on his shift at the seawall. 

"You're right," Dean grinned wholeheartedly. "Change is good."


	13. The Intended

Sam's place was more warehouse than actual house. He lived off a houseboat most of the time when he was on his marine expeditions, but there was no way Dean wanted anywhere near water after the week he had had. So Sam took Dean to the closest thing he had to a home out of water, which was a huge shed like structure built on a piece of cheap vacant land. There was no harbour access, not even an inlet that went out to sea. The whole plot was a disused farm and Sam actually kept a few grazers on pasture to keep the weeds down. In deference to Sam's love of water, there was a huge manmade dam, though the ongoing drought had shrunk the previously grand lake into a swimming pool sized puddle. Dean sat on the dry wharf which stood like a bridge to nowhere in the parched landscape and researched a topic that he couldn't stop thinking about. 

The breeding cove Castiel had mentioned in passing was a closely guarded Mer secret. There were several hundreds of them around the world in far flung locations. The only one the humans had found was in the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and that one was abandoned since the coral had been bleached there. Dean still daydreamed about visiting it with Castiel, horse riding over expanses of red dust, sightseeing in the coastal cities. Maybe there they wouldn't even be noticed, since surely Castiel couldn't be known as the Mer prince the world over? When Castiel had first shown up at the seawall, Dean had thought him a diplomatic attache of some kind. Then it emerged that Castiel was higher on the food chain than he made out. When Castiel went on tv to promote the whole Mer mating ritual fiasco, Dean realised that Mer royalty were a bigger deal than he had thought. Now that Dean had experienced the violence of Mer politics on the island, he figured that Castiel, and whatever he was up to in terms of his interactions with the humans, was critically important. Seemed to Dean that Castiel had many allies and just as many enemies. The whole thing didn't add up, except for the fact that Castiel seemed to always be in peril and Dean would do just about anything to fight those dangers with him. 

Checking his emails, Dean realised the committing ceremony had been scheduled the next week. The days prior to it stretched like they would go on forever. Not that Dean wanted to rush into a new life with Castiel, he quite liked his old life in fact, but surely there was no way he could have Castiel by his side and not become a royal consort? Dean imagined if Castiel was just an ordinary guy, maybe someone who worked the wall with him, how things might have been different. They would have dated, maybe settled down together, maybe drifted apart. None of this living in constant danger and publicity weirdness. Or even if Castiel was just a normal Mer, like Andrea, Dean could visit him in the swamps like Benny does, maybe even consider transferring to a post in the swamps like Benny has requested. Dean spent his days recuperating, speculating, wishful thinking and finally just being really bored. Once or twice he called up Bobby citing the unprecedented number of Mer arrivals at the wall as an excuse that he should be allowed to go back to work. 

"Haven't you figured out why there's so many?" Bobby said gruffly. "They're royal watchers from the seven seas. You better send the whole squad some wedding cake to make up for all the overtime everybody's pulling." 

Dean didn't get it, why would a bunch of Mer who previously had no interest in humans suddenly flood the shores? He understood the need of the Mer refugees to flee bad waters but Mer moving onto land for the sole purpose of spectating Dean getting hitched was just absurd. Castiel never mentioned how popular he was as a leader of the Mer, though Dean had seen how loyal his entourage were. 

* * * 

About three days before the committing ceremony, everyone from work descended on Sam's farm. Benny was accompanied by Andrea. Charlie and Kevin arrived with a video game console, ostentatiously to help Dean pass the time, but Dean thought they just really wanted to whoop his ass at something. Donna and Jody arrived with delicious crockpots of curry and stroganoff. Bobby brought his mac 'n cheese. Asa came with a giant jar of home pickled chilli peppers, while Garth shucked corn to cook on the charcoal fire. Dean and Sam provided the steaks and beers. As the sun set a people mover pulled up and Sam's face lit up as the passengers disembarked. Hannah was in the lead, holding an elaborate box which was revealed as filled with bento like treats. Balthazar and Gabriel were lifting a metal bucket full of monstrously sized lobsters, waving cheerfully at Dean as they advanced. Jack and Kelly had baked in the embassy kitchen, offering up a gloriously rustic looking pumpkin pie. Then there was Crowley, holding a crate of dark bottled drinks, glowering as his mother rushed forward to kiss Dean's cheeks in a swirl of silk and perfume. Chuck came prepared with a whole platter of deli meats, smiling shyly as he greeted everyone. Finally the driver got out and ambled up to the Winchesters. 

"This is for you," Castiel said, holding forward the single red rose with a raised eyebrow. 

Dean snatched the flower from his hand and gently shoved his fist into Castiel's shoulder. "You suck." 

"Had Sam not interfered, perhaps," Castiel said slyly. 

Dean could see that Castiel was excited to see him, he had that gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. He was dressed in his usual suit but the top button was undone and the trench coat was opened casually. Dean just stood there for a whole minute looking at Castiel, until it went on for a truly embarrassingly long time and Jack asked his mother innocently if they were gonna fight or kiss. 

Dean ducked his head down and made himself busy passing out drinks while Castiel sat down by the fire pit talking amiably to Dean's friends and colleagues. After putting the rose in some water and setting it down in the makeshift guest room Dean was occupying, he returned to the grassy paddock where everyone was lounging by the fire. Castiel was calmly drinking a beer while surrounded by curious humans and Mer allies. Dean stayed out of the way, not wanting to seem too eager for Castiel's attention. Though every time Dean glanced in Castiel's direction, he could see Castiel peering back at him. It went on like that and slowly, one by one the people sitting between them drifted away. Till somewhere around pie time, Dean found himself sharing a giant slice of ice cream heaped dessert with Castiel, feeling lightheaded as he listened to the gratified noises Castiel made. Dean didn't know exactly what Chuck had done to them, the desire he had felt for Castiel was undiminished but changed. Rather than burning, searing, driving him out of his mind urgency, they had turned into something warmer and sweeter. More tempered but deeper too, ripening and satisfying. They sat staring into the cooking fire together, just like they did on the island, basking in the heat of each other's company. 

"I'm all stiff," Castiel turned to Dean at the end of the meal. "I need to stretch my legs." 

Dean's head was still abuzz trying to catch up with the first thing Castiel said. "It's all the sitting on it, the ground, makes it hard, to get up." 

"Do you need a hand, Dean, to help you getting up?" Castiel asked courteously, there was a snorting sound from Jody, or was it Donna. 

"I'm up," Dean shot to his feet. 

"You need to come," Castiel gestured. "This way." 

"Right, Cas," Dean followed as Castiel quickly paced away from the crowd. There were some chuckles and maybe a wolf whistle from Charlie. 

They walked over the hill and down towards the dam. Having spent the whole day in the sun, Dean felt lazy and overheated. The ambient temperature around the dam was perceptibly cooler and Castiel had taken off his trench coat, looping it around his elbow. 

"I'm parched," Castiel said, peeling off his jacket and starting on his shirt buttons. "How about a swim?" 

Dean licked his suddenly dry lips. "I don't suppose you brought swim trunks?" 

"Do you have concerns for my modesty?" Castiel said teasingly. "I'll shift over there behind the bush, meet you in the water." 

Castiel broke into a run, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake as he headed for the reeds. Dean climbed clumsily into the small wooden boat Sam had tied to the jetty. Then Dean got out again realising the boat was completely stuck in the mud. Sighing, he took off his shoes and socks, all the while fixing his attention on a patch of rustling reeds. Shame he didn't have his weirdly acute vision anymore, because he could see the top of Castiel's head bobbing up and down as he presumably took off all his clothes. Dean saw Castiel's bare torso splash into the water and cursed as he hurriedly dragged the boat into the shallow water. Dean clambered abroad and grabbed the oars, clumsily steering himself. Castiel surfaced in the centre of the dam, a patch of waterlilies half trailing over his head and shoulders. Dean rotated the oars and spun the boat in a circle. Castiel disappeared beneath the water and almost instantly wet hands grasped Dean's oar in the water. 

"You need a pull?" Castiel grinned, there were water droplets in his eyelashes, Dean could only nod mutely. 

Castiel towed Dean into the centre of the dam, where the water plants clumped. The Mer enjoyed a few laps circling Dean. His speed was dazzling, Dean thought he saw the tip of a silver dorsal fin for a fraction of a second. Dean wanted so much to see Castiel's tail, he had seen it on pretty much every Mer he had encountered but Castiel seemed especially shy about his. Dean thought in his head that it would be impressively long and proportionate, given that pretty much every aspect of Castiel's physicality was sheer perfection to Dean. Castiel let Dean ogle him as he swam for a few minutes, darting in and out of the lillipads. When he was done exploring, Castiel came right up to Dean and grabbed a hold of the side of the paddle boat, pulling himself out of the water. 

"Hold this for me," Novak proffered the familiar silver blade, handle first, at Dean. 

Dean held onto it, blinking as he felt the heart-beat like warm pulse of it in his palm. Castiel climbed in, he had already shifted back to his terrestrial form. Dean almost dropped the blade at the sight of him, all sun bronzed skin and running sleeks of water. Castiel smiled and sat cross legged, his hands politely folded in his lap. 

"I have something amazing to show you, Dean," Castiel whispered. "But first I need to show you how to paddle." 

Dean dared not move, or speak, or blink as Castiel leaned forward and took one of the oars. He raised it, showing Dean the flat side. 

"It's really very intuitive, the trick is to be in sync." 

Dean copied Castiel's movement and indeed they fell into a steady rhythm. Castiel might have thought Dean was paying attention to the strokes, but really Dean was mesmerised by the curl and pull of Castiel's body as he rowed. Dean's eyes wandered down from Castiel's neck to his abdomen, taking in the long lean line of Castiel's legs. Within a few minutes, or perhaps an eternity, they had rowed to the other side of the shore, where a grove of trees grew on the side of the dam.  A lightning struck oak had fallen into the water and the aquatic plants had overtaken the bulk of it. Castiel gestured with his finger over his lips, not that Dean was even capable of speaking at that point. 

"Look," Castiel said, pushing aside some foliage. "It's a nest." 

There were baby ducks, nestled together, they chirped in alarm until Castiel gentled them with fingertip pats on their beaks. 

"I'm going to find worms for them to eat!" Castiel said, grabbing his blade and diving into the water again. 

Dean sat, dumbfounded, on the boat as he watched Castiel submerge and surface over and over, feeding the ducks till the sunset was over and he was covered in mud and Dean was both aroused and exasperated. Dean could hardly see Castiel's nudity when he towed them back to the shore, pulling the boat with Dean inside it, all the way to the dried out jetty. Dean stood by as Castiel looked for his scattered clothes, dressing himself haphazardly. 

"I like ducks," Castiel said finally, popping himself down on the grass beside Dean. 

"I love you," Dean said in reply. 

* * * 

Sam found Dean huddled in a rusty chair on the back porch, his face in his hands, his whole body slumped forward in a heap. Sam had gone past a couple of time already, in the process of cleaning up after their impromptu cook-up. Now most of the guests had left or were in the process of leaving and Dean was still in a state. 

"You okay?" Sam finally broke, he sat down on the plastic crate doing double duty as a stool next to Dean. 

"Just dandy."

"So Castiel was smiling when he came back from the dam," Sam said. "And he was still smiling when he headed off to the embassy, he was in such a good mood he let Jack drive. I hope they survive the journey back to town because apparently he's important or something." 

Dean made a non-committal sound. 

"So what happened?" Sam asked. "Did you guys uh, look I don't want to know but if you need to get it off your chest then shoot." 

"I did something bad," Dean said. "Awful. It was just he was so happy, all naked and muddy..."

Sam looked like he was regretting his offer of support, but he nodded for Dean to keep going. 

"He was looking after them, playing with them, right till the mother came home and chased us away." 

"Wait what?" 

"The mother duck! It tried to attack us! He was giggling and then he got dressed and the frogs started singing in the night time and he was right there and I've been out in the sun all day and I think my sunscreen wore off or something and maybe the two beers finally kicked in but I mean the frogs were singing like all romantic and Little Mermaid-ish and I just looked at him, honestly it was so dark I could barely see him but I knew he was there and he is everything I ever wanted and I think he was made just for me and I know that's a stupid thing to think or say but that's how I feel damnit and I told him I loved him. I loved him the second I saw him and maybe before we've even met. I just do! And now he knows." 

There was a long silence filled only by the sound of Dean taking in a shaky breath. 

"Wow," Sam said. 

Dean groaned into his hands again. 

"He seemed pleased about it," Sam offered helpfully. "If its any consolation." 

Dean wiped his fingers down his face. 

"What did he say back?" Sam asked. 

Dean stood up with a pained whine. "Thank you kindly."

Sam waited some more. 

"That's what he said 'Thank you kindly, Dean'. I freaked out and ran for the house." 

Sam was still laughing when Dean shuffled inside the warehouse, shutting the door on Sam's hiccuping guffaws. 

"I'm sure he'll say it back soon, dude is so into you," Sam called out, Dean replied by banging the bathroom door shut. 

* * * 

Dean read the email again, checking the address and then googling the Mer embassy contact details to see that it really was from the same domain. The email was from Castiel and contained exactly six words. 

"Thank you for helping me decide." 

Dean received the message just 24 hours before the committing ceremony and he hoped he understood its meaning correctly. The whole thing had snowballed into a huge deal. Dean saw on tv that entire streets have been blocked off to stop overcrowding. The Mer embassy building was decorated with banners, the entire facade covered in flower bouquets from well wishers. There was a coral arch, two storeys tall, erected in the embassy precinct square. The sports oval had been set up with a stage with oversized screens on either side as if a Taylor Swift concert was about to kick off. Dean could see only one piece of furniture on the stage, a king sized bed, surrounded by lights and cameras. He just about had another breakdown about that, till Charlie reassured him via Skype that the Mer rarely mated in public and that as a cultural concept sex was about enjoyment. 

"Cas wouldn't keep going if you weren't into it," Charlie said, waggling her eyebrows. "How are you with exhibitionism anyway?" 

Dean blushed vividly. 

"Well, Cas seems the type to really know what he's doing in bed, so I'm sure he'll have you begging for more, cameras or no cameras," Charlie continued. "Stop me if this conversation is too much." 

Dean responded by disconnecting. Within a few seconds he received a text. 

Charlie: _I'm sure he'll be respectful_ 

Dean: _I'm worried you're right, that I would like it_ 

Charlie: _I can hack into the cameras and play Bert and Ernie for the cable feeds. Just gimme a sign._

Dean: _The sign will be me running off the stage._ 

Charlie: _I won't let you down._

Charlie: _Though as a scientist I am still interested in witnessing the process, for science._

Dean: _You suck but at least now I'm not scared anymore._

Charlie: _I know I'm the best._

* * * 

On the day of the committing ceremony, Kelly and Jack arrived at Sam's place before the sun had even risen. They picked Dean up in the unassuming people mover and drove Dean and Sam to the embassy quarters. Dean could see out of the tinted windows that there were people (or maybe Mer) lined up along the cordoned off streets, a couple of tents here and there too. Kelly ran through the schedule with them. 

"6 am pickup and 8 am arrival at the embassy. Hair, grooming and changing by 9 am for Dean. Sam is going to lead the human party, Bobby will walk Dean over the kelp carpet into the committing room. Castiel will commit to Dean in the private antechamber and then Dean will be veiled and taken to the sports stadium. You'll be cleansed and prepared for mating in the car. Castiel will be readied as well and will await you on the mating podium. That's the bed on the stage Dean. You guys will have until midnight, then we have to get everything packed up so the stadium can be cleared out and ready for the football game the next morning. It's going to be a long exhausting day, so how about a bagel?" 

"I like bagels," said Jack, offering a cream cheese filled smoked salmon concoction to Dean. 

"Um, cleansed and prepared, in the car?" 

Kelly shot Jack a look, "You keep driving and don't listen to this bit, Jack." 

Jack nodded good natured, plugging his earphones in. 

She turned toward Dean. "Do you need me to give you the facts of life, marine version? It's like the land version, except you have an audience of Mer adults and stage lights." 

Dean gaped at her, red in the face. 

She sighed. "Do you need me to run down the land version for you too? You ever been with a man?" 

Dean nodded. 

"Then you'll know what to do," Kelly winked at him. "Look, in the wild, the Mer take their chosen into a breeding cove and they swim in circles and twine tails etc. When it's a human with a Mer, the Mer can take their terrestrial form if they're on land and it really is no different to making love the good old human way. Believe me, I know, you'd hardly be able to tell the difference. There's extra strength and stamina of course but Castiel will be gentle with you." 

Dean shivered. 

"So you ready?" Kelly flipped her hair behind her shoulders as Dean nodded. "Good. Let's get this show on the road."

The embassy doors opened and Dean went in.


	14. The Bodyguard

To Dean’s relief, the outfit he got put into was a plain suit. A very beautifully tailored black suit paired with leather shoes and a white dress shirt that felt heavenly to the touch. The bowtie fastened around his neck was simple but elegant and when Dean looked in the mirror even he did a double take. His face was glowing with excitement and his hair was freshly trimmed and groomed. Dean let all the fuss roll over him like a wave, he had expected to be nervous but as everything was happening all he felt was eagerness to see Castiel. Sam came in just before Dean was due to walk through the spectators, they drank a small flute of champagne together. Sam said a bunch of nice things about how proud he was of Dean and how happy he was for Dean to have found someone he wanted to be with. There was still a tinge of doubt in Sam’s voice, he asked Dean again if he was sure. Dean patted Sam on the shoulder and reassured him that he was absolutely certain that Castiel was the one for him, royal or not. Reassured, Sam went to go and sit with everyone else in the embassy’s main function room. There were cameras everywhere because the whole ceremony was being televised. The only part that would be kept behind closed doors was the proposal itself. Dean tried to centre himself in amidst the sea of strangers by looking for his friends. They were all seated in the front rows, turning their heads as Kelly guided Dean into the ballroom set up with rows of chairs. 

A harp began to play when Dean was met at the door by Bobby, they marched up the aisle together at a sedate pace. Sam stood at the front, facing a trio of Mer. Hannah, Gadreel and Gabriel were all lined up in their traditional robes. They were in different shades of blue, Hannah’s flowing gown was icy blue, while Gabriel’s was a vivid azure. Gadreel’s robes were bright blue, with a hue of aqua green. There were differences in how the attire was laid out and folded over their bodies, intricate details in the designs. Each Mer wore crowns in their hair of pearl, kelp and coral respectively. The fourth representative, Crowley, was standing a little apart from the Mer. He wasn’t in any traditional robes, instead he chose to wear a fine suit, but there was a jet black obsidian crown over his temples shaped like horns. Kevin and Charlie were standing on either side of Sam, wearing plain suits similar to Dean’s. 

Castiel, alone, was seated. It looked like a perfectly ordinary chair but for the first time Dean saw how regal he was. Dean was a little dazzled as he took in neat fold of Castiel’s feet and hands and the composure on his face. Castiel looked other worldly with his eyes downcast and his mouth soft. He looked up when the harp music stopped and his eyes swept over the guests, holding their attention fast. He spared no special look for Dean but Dean stared at him anyway as he stood up slowly. Dean felt his face melt into a foolish smile as he took in Castiel, resplendent in white silk robes, a crown of mother-of-pearl heavy over his brows. The weight of it pushed down on the soft tousle of Castiel hair, leaving dark tendrils to halo his head. 

The crowd was silent as Castiel spoke, the camera operators hunched intensely over their equipment. 

“I am Castiel, Prince of all Merfolk. Thank you for your attendance. My authority is recognised by an alliance of regional representatives. I acknowledge here Hannah of the North, whose territory extends from Alaska to Russia. I am honoured to be trusted by Gadreel of the South, whose traditional waters are in the Pacific. Also here are Gabriel of the nomadic populations who control the migratory currents and Crowley of the Dead Sea and the dark waters.” 

Each ally mentioned bowed to Castiel then sat down. Dean saw that Crowley’s bow was barely a dip of the head. 

“These are my allies and together we hold sway over the marine trade routes. You all know us, we have been in contact with human civilisation in the modern era since Anna was sent was envoy a decade ago. Here are other Mer you have yet to meet,” Castiel nodded in Hannah’s direction and she gestured towards the ancillary wall, touching a piece of jewellery on her wrist.

What looked like a film of water drifted over the surface of the wall and the whole thing began to glimmer. Dean had never seen technology like it, but where the water pooled out seemingly in defiance of gravity a moving image formed. It looked some special effect in a fantasy movie but it was clear that the Mer shown on the wall were underwater. They appeared to be able to hear and see everyone in the room. The central figure was a woman seated on a sleek throne, beside her were two other figures, Metatron and Raphael. 

“Naomi is the mouthpiece for the deep sea dwellers, their territory is hidden from humans,” Castiel said to the guests. “She works for forces far more ferocious than those war general and schemers you see beside her. Welcome Naomi.” 

“That’s quite the introduction,” Naomi spoke in perfectly pitched English but it was obvious that some sort of voice translator was being used. Her gill movements were rapid but her mouth was completely closed. “The two sides are watching, breed your mate, such as he is. No more delays.” 

“These are humans we are dealing with and it would be indecorous to jump into the mating,” Castiel said, one brow raised. “There’s a medal ceremony first, you want me to dry up the screen till Dean and I are in bed?” 

Naomi rolled her eyes. “Facaetiousness.” 

Dean heard a giggle from the front row and blushed to see Rowena hide her mouth behind her lily-white hands. 

Castiel turned to the assembly and spoke in a formal tone. “There are three intended here who have participated in the trials and been chosen for special commendation. Kevin who we honour for his skills in survival and entrapment. Charlie who we honour for her loyalty and resilience.”

Castiel moved in front of each candidate and picked up ornate medals from a tray held in Hannah’s hand. They looked like old gold coins out of a pirate movie, attached to pieces of ribbon. Kevin and Charlie beamed as Castiel draped the medals around their necks. 

“You better give us some research access to your territory,” Charlie implored. 

“Hannah will ensure it,” Castiel smiled. 

Kevin was staring at his mother and friends in the audience, Mrs Tran was valiantly pretending she wasn’t crying with pride. 

“And then, there is Dean ...” Castiel turned around. 

Dean could see that Castiel was looking right at him, but his smile was indulgent if impersonal. 

“Dean is the winner of the trials, being the sole remaining contender, besting the likes of Metatron, Crowley and Raphael. Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean stood still as Castiel neared, his eyes widened as Castiel bent forward to drape the medal around Dean’s neck. Dean found himself leaning in and he flushed to realise he had instinctively tried to kiss Castiel right in front of all the cameras. Castiel took a neat step backwards and Dean was left trying to hide his embarrassment in vain. 

“It is customary to marry the victor,” Castiel said, turning quickly to the crowd. “I have chosen not to do so.” 

Dean didn’t hear the gasp of the crowd. He didn’t register the frown on Naomi’s face, six feet tall on the screen right in front of him. Dean just heard the roar of the ocean in his ears and felt the drum of his heart grow into a war song. 

“Dean Winchester, I name you protector of the throne, but I will not marry you.” 

Dean could see a door to the side of the ballroom, he didn’t know if it opened into a utility closet or the toilet or the exit. He marched up to Castiel and grabbed him by the hand. As Dean pulled Cas along with him towards that one unassuming door with all the determination and momentum of a comet, he dodged the cameras. “Excuse me, Cas and I need to talk.”

* * * 

The door turned out to connect to a hallway. Dean marched Castiel through it. 

“Privacy,” Dean said. 

Castiel took Dean through a series of doors Dean did not care to remember. Their hands were still joined. Finally, they were in a room, with a modest bed and a couple pieces of luggage. It looked too spartan to be a prince’s bedroom but Dean recognised the passports sitting atop of a pile of paperwork. 

“Dean ...” Castiel started to say but Dean had him pushed against the wall and was kissing his mouth softly already. Castiel pushed Dean back, their torsos slammed into each other a little hard, causing Dean to exhale into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel swallowed, his fingers interlocking with Dean’s. 

“Dean,” Castiel tried again but drifted into repeating the sound over and over as Dean kissed his neck. 

Finally Castiel moaned and muttered a quiet little ‘please’. He was trying to move them a few steps in a particular direction, Dean dove for Castiel’s clavicle, pressing his teeth against the sensitive hollows. 

“You don’t wanna go to bed?” Dean murmured into Castiel’s ear. “Just like you don’t wanna marry me?” 

“If we hit that mattress, I’m done for,” Castiel gasped. “I won’t be able to stop.” 

“Don’t want you to stop.” 

“I just rejected you. In front of the world.” 

“Yeah, I was there.” 

“Then why are you kissing me,” Castiel looked genuinely confused, his hands in Dean’s hair stroked over Dean’s skull trying to still him for a moment. “Why do you kiss me like that. With so much love?” 

“Don’t change how I feel about you,” Dean said. “You must have your reasons.” 

“What if I don’t, what if I’m just a ...” 

“Dickbag?” Dean stared into Castiel’s eyes. “Maybe but you’re my dick. You don’t want to marry me, Cas, that’s fine. You want me to protect you, be your bodyguard, cool. Long as I get to be with you.” 

“I can’t marry you because I’m not who you think I am,” Castiel tried to explain, around Dean’s tongue in his mouth. 

“When have I ever really known who you are?” Dean surfaced from about the thousandth kiss. “Don’t care, you’re Cas. That’s enough.” 

“Naomi, the ones she’s working for, they have hostages,” Castiel said. “Not proposing to you has thrown her for a spin but she’ll regroup and incite destruction. The alliance is willing but we are not the side with superiority of force.” 

“Exposition crap,” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand again, kissing the palm, trailing down to the wrist where Castiel’s pulse raced with excitement. “Blah.” 

“As the prince, I can’t see you anymore.” Castiel said. Though his words were not loud or angry, they struck silence and stillness in Dean. 

“No Cas,” Dean said. “You said I could protect the throne, that’s you, the royal heir.” 

“There’s only one true royal heir, according to our lore,” Castiel shook his head, his eyes a little wild. “I never believed, everyone else did but I never bought it. Then I saw it, I experienced it. There’s someone out there who can save the world, but it isn’t me.” 

Dean tried to listen, he could tell by Castiel’s tone that this was important to him, but every impulse in his body denied it. 

“There’s no world without you,” Dean said, the words coming slowly, weightily. 

Castiel gave Dean a long look, his eyes bright, the corners of them seemed to droop infinitesimally till the tear droplets formed on the edge of his eyelash line. 

“You want to face the music with me?” 

Dean nodded solemnly. 

* * * 

When Dean and Castiel stepped back into the ballroom, it was into the midst of an ongoing argument. 

“...incompetent,” Naomi was saying icily. 

“He’s more fit to wear the crown than you, or your true masters,” Rowena had stood up and was talking back at her with her hands on her hips.

“We are more numerous by far than Castiel’s little alliance,” Naomi said. “And that is not taking into consideration pedigree.” 

“Well, that’s for puppies,” Rowena retorted. “Shame on you lassie trying to boss these wee young men into a public mating just because you think you can prove Castiel is not the true heir.” 

“He’s no Siren. Everyone knows that, he’s a hybrid, he’s probably more human than Mer. The prophecy is clear, the true heir is a Siren with the corresponding mating ability. That’s why royal heirs have to prove their legitimacy through a public mating. Only Sirens can mate with an imprinting, rumour is Castiel wouldn’t even have a tail if not for human intervention.” 

“Humans prevent public consummation where it is not a part of a religious ceremony, such as a wedding,” Castiel said, drawing the hushed attention of everyone. 

Dean could see about a hundred pairs of eyes going back and forth between himself and Castiel, glances darting around in confusion as to why Dean and Castiel were standing side by side and not ripping each other to shreds. 

“That’s not true, Metatron informs me that with consent and an adult audience, such performances can be given,” Naomi interjected. 

“Bet Marv’s database research history is way less tasteful than mine,” Gabriel said with a snort. On the screen, Metatron shuffled himself in his seat with a sour expression. 

“I’ve abjured Dean as the victor and refused him as an intended,” Castiel said gravely. “He cannot be asked to take part in a mating now. He is free to go and live his life without being embroil any further.” 

“If Dean refuses to mate, he can be challenged again by other intended in proximity when the abjuring is announced,” Metatron called out gleefully. 

Charlie stepped up. “Kevin and I, we quit! Dean wins by default.” 

“Then Crowley is the winner and he gets to mate with Castiel,” Raphael said. 

Crowley cleared his throat when all eyes turned to him. 

“Sorry to disappoint you Castiel, I’d rather just stay allies with platonic benefits,” Crowley cooed. “Dean’s more my type than you.” 

Castiel’s eyes flashed. “You’ll not be insolent towards my ... bodyguard.” 

Crowley smirked just as Balthazar’s whispered ‘Cassie has it so bad’ to Gabriel was inconveniently heard by all. 

“Your bodyguard has deserted you,” Crowley laughed. 

Castiel looked around with a start, Sam was pointing at the door and shrugging. Dean was gone. 

* * * 

“Did Castiel really ask me to drive you to the stadium?” Jack asked, incredulous. “I don’t even have my full licence yet.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry buddy I’ll keep an eye on your driving,” Dean said. “I’m a real good driver, you’ve seen my car right?” 

“The black one?” Jack grinned. “Castiel made me track it on the water screen, it is very well shined.” 

Dean filed away the fact that the Mer could keep tabs on him via some sort of unknown tech.

“So how come you’re going ahead of Castiel?” Jack was mechanically but fluidly shifting gears as he spoke, he was trying to be delicate. “Don’t you both need to be there at the same time?” 

“He’s uh he’s coming.” Dean looked out the window as the embassy disappeared from view, the two storey tall coral arch glistening in lonely celebration in the distance. 

* * * 

There were spectators in the stadium having been allowed in based on a ticket lottery. There was a whole section reserved for Mer and those were surprisingly the most full seats. Dean walked in without anyone stopping him, since his face had been plastered all over the news as Castiel’s intended. There were a few production assistants making rushed phone calls back stage as Dean walked through the guts of the labyrinth behind the curtains. There was a lot of yelling and once or twice he heard Kelly’s voice instructing her people to try and talk Dean out of it. Dean didn’t pay any of the noises much attention. He could only think of Castiel stuck in the muck of all that politics, having to appease the likes of Raphael and Metatron and now this Naomi who really rubbed Dean up the wrong way. 

Dean brooded his way through the backset, past the curtains, onto the stage. He sat down on the bed with the surprisingly lush feeling mattress and looked up into the cameras fanned out around him. The crowd of thousands went silent. Dean looked into the closest lens and spoke. 

“Cas, don’t keep me waiting.”


	15. The Prince

No one had tried to stop Dean from entering the stadium, no one dared tell him not to get on the stage and except for stage hands rushing around in complete confusion not much happened. For some time. Dean's optimism that Castiel would come for him held fast for most of the morning. He stood for a while in the centre of the stage, not paying any mind to the cameras or the audience. He had a lot to think about. Everything he had learnt about the complicated society the Mer lived in, the political instability and all the nooks and crannies of his own existence that had been revealed on the island. In amidst all that, the strange interconnections pulling him and Castiel together. The warm little bond they had forged despite all that deception. After a few hours, Dean sat at the foot of the bed, the lights dimming as the sun rose higher. The sporting field was slowly filled by spectators hearing news of Dean's strange vigil.

When it was noon, a trolley was rolled out and Dean was surprised to see Hannah pushing it. She was refined as always, her face set in steely determination as if she was about to walk in on a battle. Dean found out soon enough that she was adamant that he would eat and drink all of the provisions on the trolley under her watchful eye. Dean did not put up a fight. What was the point when he knew he needed to sustain himself for a presumably long wait. 

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked through a mouthful of stuffed bagel, one of his favourites from the district he used to work in, Dean wondered who had thought of that. 

"He's not coming, Dean," Hannah said without much intonation. 

"Just a matter of when," Dean proffered his bottle of water in a salute to her. "Cheers." 

She sighed and pulled a strand of her dark black hair behind her ear in a vague gesture of frustration. 

"So don't you have better things to do than serving lunch to a guard?" Dean asked after a few more minutes of thoughtful chewing. 

"We're short handed for suitable staff to bring you nourishment."

"What makes you so qualified, princess?" 

"Apparently, because I have no desire for a consort of my own, I am considered pure enough to be in your presence without sullying your innocence," she said, rolling her eyes now in a gesture that reminded Dean a little of Castiel. 

He snorted and ate some more. 

"Well at least you are cooperating." 

"Oh yes, gotta keep my strength up for when Cas comes." 

Hannah crossed her arms, tilting her head at the fruit on the tray. Dean picked up a green apple and bit into it. It was tart and sweet at once, with a mouth watering aroma.

"You think this is a game," Hannah said as she picked up the plate, glass and silver tray. "When he wants to give this whole world to you." 

Dean scoffed. "The world doesn't belong to anyone, whatever royalty they are." 

"The prophecy said the prince of the Mer would unite all the fractions and perform a great deed, one that will be remembered in history and that would mark the turning point for our species. I am sure Castiel is the man to fulfil it." Hannah took the tray with a shrug to her shoulders. "Or at least I was till he met you. He was always a reluctant but effective leader. Never a true believer." 

Dean blinked at her, then swallowed. He dabbed his mouth with the napkin provided and pulled his shoulders back. "Okay, look, I know. I'm hardly worthy of Cas but I'm the one he wants. Of that I'm certain. Down to every fibre in my soul." 

She gazed at him, her brows knitted tightly. If anything she looked more stressed than before. Finally she said in exasperation: "I wish he would mate you just to get it over with. Then he could move on and do his job!" 

Hannah left without saying much more, the cameras kept relaying different angles of Dean spread out on the bed, scrolling through his phone for entertainment. He kind of forgot about the ten foot screens quickly. The stadium kept filling up, packed right up to the aisles. Dean hoped that Sam and his friends would at least not come and see the mating live, would make holiday gatherings a little awkward. He made the mistake of looking up the news and saw wall to wall coverage of nothing but himself. 

* * *   
Somewhere around 2 pm, Dean took a nap and when he woke up he saw a figure approaching him, his face shadowed by the sun. 

It wasn't Castiel. He was shorter and smaller, with a slightly hunched back and a less fluid gait. Chuck tiptoed around the wires on the stage floor and peered at Dean's face with a skeptical expression. He reached out gloved hands and prodded at Dean's neck. Looked at Dean's dress shoes ponderously. Then Chuck took out a paper pad and started writing copious notes. 

"Hi to you too." 

Chuck smiled wanely at Dean and started talking on his phone. Dean could overhear snatches of words such as 'no temperature', 'lucid and logical', 'no there's nothing chemically up with him' and 'maybe he's just in love'. 

"Is that Cas, tell him I can wait," Dean said cordially. "They brought me a phone charger and I've just started watching Stranger Things. Kinda getting into it." 

Chuck shook his head and kept arguing on the phone for a few minutes. 

"I examined him," Chuck was saying doggedly into the phone. "Yes, right in the neck, there was nothing." 

"You could tell me something useful, rather than just shouting at Cas," Dean interjected. 

"He's talking at me, he sounds fine," Chuck yelled. "Why don't you come and do the full examination? He's refusing to leave the stage." 

"I'll just let you keep talking." 

"I gotta, hey, just wait," Chuck fumbled with the phone, jabbing his finger into the screen to mute it. "Dean, I'd love to tell you a whole long story but I don't have the time or the inclination. When a human and a royal Siren Mer are bonded, the human turns into a Mer, slowly. Gills, tails, claws, all that. The process can turn toxic if the human is merely entranced or resistant or in love with someone else already or just not biologically compatible. Or the human develops an obsession with the Mer. Basically, it usually goes bad. So, royal line, not exactly prolific." 

Dean raised his eyebrows and chewed on his thumbnail. "Okay." 

"So what do you feel right now? Mad? Poisoned? Bespelled? Uh, obsessive?" Chuck poised his pen. "My money's on obsessive." 

"No, I'm alright," Dean let out a small laugh. "Not giddy or hyper like the island. Just normal. A little sad I got rejected for consort but I wanna help him out, I wouldn't mind mating with him." 

Chuck blinked rapidly at Dean then looked down on his page, reading out loud as he wrote 'Would.Not.Mind.' 

Then he got his phone out again and started arguing once more. He kept up the yelling as he gave Dean a friendly little wave bye, shouting into the phone as he wandered off stage. 

* * * 

As the day ended, some of the crowds began to leave but they were quickly replaced by a fresh stream of arrivals. Dean noticed more and more of the people waiting patiently in the seats were Mer. Some in more traditional apparel than Dean was used to seeing around the city. The echo of voices began to take on exotic pitch and tones, a few voices overlaying the hubbub of talking with quiet screeches. Amplified by the stadium, a song began to build, with a strangely familiar tune. 

The demeanour of the newcomers were odd, they filed down into the grassy oval one by one and placed small gifts of flowers and shells around the base of the stage. None of them spoke to Dean, just looked at him and left their tokens before leaving to take a seat in the stands. The most Dean could read from their faces was a sort of shocked recognition and resignation. Suddenly, Dean recognised the face looming up next in line. 

"Andrea!" He called out frantically. 

The mermaid paused and looked up with a small shy smile. 

"It's me, Dean, from Benny's work," he said, touching the back of his neck. "You remember me right? From the BBQ?" 

Andrea's eyes crinkled and she took a few steps forward. 

"Hey can I ask you what's going on?" Dean leaned down, lying on the stage and pushing his head over the edge so they could talk out of range of the microphone. "I mean, only tell me if you're not going to get into trouble or something." 

She looked at him with bright eyes. "Oh, I'm not worried about that. I can tell you whatever you want to know, if I know the answer." 

"Where's Cas?" 

"That, I don't know. He's in contemplation apparently. Shut himself away from his supporters after turning you down."

"Is he alright?" 

"He's Cas, of course he is. Between you and me, I think he's watching this somewhere nearby. He likes to be sneaky." 

"I thought you were some devoted follower of his?" 

"I do believe he has our best interests at heart, but now that I've gotten to know him as a person, I'm not so enthralled." Andrea sighed. "More just in awe."

Dean grinned. "So is virtually the whole swamp here?" 

Andrea nodded. "The swamp and the seven seas more like. This is the most Mer in one place I've ever seen and I've been to the great gatherings already. You've got everyone here, land Mer, refugees, the ones who passed for human for generations, the deep downers, the migrant swimmers. I've never seen so many believers." 

"You keep saying that word, believers," Dean asked. "What do you guys believe?" 

"We believe in you," Andrea said. "You and Cas." 

Dean was taken aback. 

"This mating isn't just about the bond," Andrea said. "It's about fairy tales. An absurd meeting between a lost prince and an unlikely human. You're the fairy tale." 

"Great, I'm Elsa, next you'll be telling me to let it go," Dean said dryly. 

"I'll be telling you to hold on, no matter what," Andrea said. 

"Comforting," Dean replied. 

Andrea gave Dean a quick peck on the cheek much to the shock of the next Mer in line and darted off. She had promised to update Benny on Dean's status. Dean was thankful that at least Benny decided to give the mating a miss. 

Though his girlfriend was perched in one of the front seats and had her camera ready to capture all the history as it occurred.

* * * 

As the sun set, the vendors in the stadium started selling dinner packs. Hot dogs with all the fixings and slices of semi soggy pizza, ice creams for dessert washed down with pop. Dean flagged down a couple and got them to throw the food to him much to the bemusement of the crowds. He ate, briefly ducked backstage for a bathroom break, then went back to the bed. Sometime around dusk, he exercised and went back to lounging. There were candles being burnt in the audience, little tealights that lit up like stars. Dean wondered why they were all still there, waiting along with him. 

At two am, he stirred awake in a crowded but sleeping stadium. The silence broken only intermittently by a cough. The candles had mostly burnt out but the stars were bright. Dean folded his hands behind his head and smiled as he thought of the look on Castiel's face even as he had made Dean his guard rather than his consort. There was starved light behind his eyes every time he looked at Dean. 'Cas'll come' thought Dean as he drifted back to sleep. 

When he woke again the lights were taken away and the screens switched off. The stagehands made much fuss about packing up all the gear for broadcasting but neither Dean nor the audience budged an inch. 

Breakfast was buttery toast brought by Hannah. Her eyes had bags beneath them and somehow the pale blue shadows reminded Dean of Castiel. 

"You guys related by any chance?" Dean asked. "Like second cousins?" 

"You'll have to ask Chuck to explain that to you," Hannah tilted her head. "There are similarities." 

"Is that why you're loyal to him?" 

Hannah smiled, it was a pretty look for her usually severe face. "I believe in what he believes, well, at one point I believed more than he ever did but now that's changing. I never thought Castiel and I would become allies, let alone friends but I'm glad I was wrong." 

Dean grinned. Castiel was magical like that. He brought conviction out in people though he chose not to express his own. He made those around him understand themselves better but he always told lies and was unnecessarily mysterious. Dean was confounded, he was bewitched. Not by an infection or lust or loneliness, Castiel's spell was to disorientate you till you were forced to find your own centre. To work out what you stood for. Dean stood for steadfastness. 

There were flowers and gifts and tokens being sent up to the stage from the audience. Small gestures that made their presence more intimate. Dean didn't know what to make of the crowd but as the hours passed he decided that they were just as bespelled as him. He could tell that more than two thirds were now Mer with vivid coloured hair and an array of outfits. They mingled with the humans more and more, talking in small circles and taking turns ordering in food. It was almost 48 hours, in the middle of the night, when one person threw aside their sleeping bag and marched up the stage. 

"I thought I could hold out for a week, but your ease and faith has driven me out of my mind," said Castiel. 

Dean looked at the prince, dressed in denim and a t-shirt, a beanie over his hair. "Hiya Cas." 

"Hello Dean."


	16. The Mate

"First of all, you should have stormed off!" Castiel said, taking a step forward. 

Dean took one backwards. It was impossible but he could see storm clouds gathering over head as if the heavens sensed Castiel's wrath. 

"Second, you're a guardian now, sprawling about like a feast for the eyes is ..." Castiel took a sharp breath. "Unseemly attractive."

Dean felt the push of the bed's edge into the back of his knees. He must have been retreating as Castiel vaulted over the railings into the pit and then propelled himself onto the stage. His face was thunderous like the sky, his nostrils flaring and that certainly shouldn't have appealed as much to Dean as it actually did. 

"Get away from that nest," Castiel demanded. 

Dean stood, his hands by his sides, rocking a little on his feet as Castiel made his landing an arm's reach away. 

"Will you sit down?" 

Dean dropped to the ground, his knees falling apart as he tucked in his feet. He had taken off his shoes and stripped off his socks. Castiel stared down at Dean's brazenly bare toes until Dean blushed.

“Been making yourself comfortable in my absence?” 

Dean glanced at the half asleep crowds, some were stirring awake. A few quiet squeals signalling that Castiel had been recognised. 

“I tried to Cas,” Dean looked Castiel, suddenly feeling a little out of his depth. “Did I do good?” 

“You’re impossible,” Castiel said after a moment’s silence. “What do you want Dean.” 

Castiel looked tired and Dean definitely recognised the pizza emblem on Castiel’s t-shirt. He was sure he’d seen him mingling in the crowd, selling pepperoni slices over the last few days. Explained all the free food that was being sent up to him to supplement the nourishing but at times bland offerings Hannah had provided. Except for that bagel when he first arrived. 

“Did you send me the bagel?” Dean asked out of nowhere. 

“Priorities, Dean.” Castiel chocked a little on a half formed laugh. “Whole world is watching and that’s what you ask?” 

Dean pouted and Castiel cleared his throat. “Yes. It was me.” 

Somehow Dean felt a surge of warmth in his chest. 

“It’s from that place I like to go to for lunch, across from my work, back when I had the job.” 

“I used to watch you go there, day in and out. Couple of times I went in and ordered for myself. It was good but you made it look sinfully good.” 

“Obsessed much,” Dean joked. 

Castiel looked down into his lap. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I want you Cas, do I even still have to say it?” Dean looked up just as the rain began to sprinkle. 

“Not now!” Castiel twisted around and barked into the night. 

There was a few flashes of lightning and then the rain stopped. 

“That’s not a rain cloud, it’s Naomi’s communication device,” Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“She wants to witness the mating?” Dean guessed. 

“She’s got me by the balls,” Castiel admitted. “She knows I won’t mate you. Making you a guard was way of getting out of it but you coming here and offering yourself makes me seem like I can’t mate with you. There are already so many rumours about my inadequacies, impotence is the lie that will break my reign.” 

“Oh, your, uh, everything works,” Dean was blushing furiously now. “Even on the island when you were sick and delirious, when I carried you, sometimes I felt, I mean, it’s hard not to notice something so, so, noticeable.” 

It was Castiel turn to blink, his eyelashes fluttering frantically as he cleared his throat. “Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” 

“And then in your rooms on the yacht,” Dean continued. “When you had me bound to the headboard and you were sitting there.” 

“You do realise this entire stage is wired for sound?” Castiel interrupted. 

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “I don’t care Cas.” 

“They’re not going to just believe what you say. They’ll say you’re just saying those things to protect my crown.” 

“Then show them,” Dean urged him, his hands inching forward to hold Castiel’s. 

Castiel pulled back before their fingertips could touch. As if Dean was a lightning rod and they were in the midst of a maelstrom. 

“The bed’s right there, it’s very soft.” Dean said coaxingly. 

“Have you not given enough of yourself over,” Castiel was staring into Dean’s eyes now, his back a little hunched as he looked up into Dean’s gaze like a curious scientist peering into the night sky. “Would you sacrifice your body like that?” 

“It’s not a sacrifice,” Dean paused, swallowing. “Not if you, you know, sanctify it with love.” 

Castiel held still, his eyes blinking rapidly, his muscles tensing. He looked like he’d been struck and was stuck in the spot where he knelt. Dean could hear this small vibrating gust and finally realised it was Castiel exhaling in shallow gasps. The cameras wouldn’t it pick up the minute tremour Dean could see in Castiel’s shoulders. 

“Cas,” Dean said softly. “It’s okay.” 

Castiel dipped his head, his whole posture softening as if in defeat. 

“Okay,” he said, voice cracking. 

The thundercloud, far too neat and close, flashed and a steady flow of rain flickered into a watery screen. Dean could see vague shapes in the downfall, huge scrutinising eyes looming against the gloom.

“Keep looking at me,” Dean whispered to Castiel. “Just you and me here.” 

Castiel gave Dean a small smile, his eyes dark and sombre. 

“I’m your’s,” Dean said. “Please do it.” 

Castiel titled his face upward, opening his mouth so that Dean could see the glimmer of moonlight on his incisors. The gill slits opened along Castiel’s neck, three red slashes on each side pulsing and gushing a clear juicy liquid. Castiel began to moan, hiding his face a little in uncharacteristic embarrassment as his torso shook with each deep groan. 

“Dean, oh fuck,” Castiel’s left hand was clutching high on his own thigh, the fingers digging in deep. “Dean!” 

Dean’s spine locked as he felt answering desire surge through his own chest, sweeping singeing heat over his cheeks and then swooping down to flutter low in his abdomen. Castiel was dripping and he swept his hand thoughtlessly over his own slits, his fingers coming away covered in thick excretion. He stared down at the sticky mess with a look of surprise.

Then tremulously, he reached out and began to tug on Dean’s clothes. Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean could see that a lot of the Mer were pulling at their own and each other’s garments in the audience. They were taking off pants and shirts and opening robes and Dean was too far gone to care when their tails appeared. The whole stadium filled with the sound of sleek slithering and Dean was lost at the sight of Castiel so enthralled. Dean’s jacket was gone as was his shirt. Castiel was staring at the expanses of skin with a fierce sense of concentration. He leaned in close, his breath making Dean’s hair stand up over his arms as he nuzzled forward. Not quite touching, as if scenting for the perfect spot. 

Dean had not expected it to happen the way it did. One second Castiel was trembling violently and mewling almost, the next his shaking hand was laid over Dean’s shoulder. The palm still wet with perspired gill juice, clammy and burningly hot. Dean felt it like a blast of summer heat, like walking into the sun when you had been frozen your whole life. He absorbed the shock of it without a sound or a movement, while he brain melted away. Castiel looked like his whole body was coming undone, he slumped forward, gasping open mouthed, his mouth wet with saliva, his face damp. He held onto Dean for a minute, his shoulders heaving as he tried to get his breath back to no avail. They sat like that, facing each other, Castiel’s hand on Dean’s shoulder, gripping tight. 

“Cas?” Dean asked after what felt like five minutes or an eon. 

Castiel gave a full bodied sigh. “Dean.” 

There was such rich satisfaction in his voice that Dean had to smile. Castiel looked up, he was grinning sheepishly. “Fuck, I could do that again.” 

Dean looked at his own shoulder, the place where Castiel was slowly removing his hand from. The palm print was back but it did not look red and raw. The skin was a healthy flush of pink, fading before Dean’s eyes. 

“That was ...”

“Amazing, Dean. So fucking good,” Castiel was licking his lips and wiping his forearm across his brow. 

“The thundercloud intercom thing looks pissed.” Dean said. 

Castiel waved his hand dismissively. He was looking at Dean through lowered eyelashes. “Did you enjoy it?” 

“As far as shoulder pats go, it was very sexy,” Dean teased. 

“Fucker,” Castiel swore again. “Fucking gorgeous fuck.”

“Not yet?” Dean grinned. “Or did I miss it?” 

Castiel looked at Dean askance and then his whole body doubled over as he shook with laughter. He sounded relieved and light and happy. 

“You’ve been royally mated, Dean Winchester,” Castiel informed him between fits of giggles. 

“Wow, it was awesome, thank you so much,” Dean said. 

“You’re most welcome,” Castiel replied. “Come again.” 

Dean choked and bopped his head into Castiel’s shoulder. “You suck!” 

Castiel shook his head, they were a pile of sobbing giggling mess, Dean fell forward burying his face in Castiel’s chest. 

“Naomi’s angry, blah, furious, blah, declaring war, blah,” Castiel read the glimmering cloud hovering over the stadium. “I don’t know why she’s so mad. She said that if I successfully mated with you then she would accept the alliance and my reign. Now she’s going back on her word.” 

“Shocking,” Dean widened his eyes and clutched at his chest. 

“She’s demanding that I return to the oceans and submit myself for house arrest or be outcast on land forever.” 

“Predictable,” Dean said. There was a roar from the audience. 

“Totally,” Castiel said, his eyes sloping as he smiled and leaned in. Dean grinned and closed his eyes as Castiel stole a small kiss. “There’s going to be a war.”

“Yeah, like there wasn’t already,” Dean whispered, touching his forehead to Castiel’s. 

“She’s coming for my throne and she has backup.” 

“Uh-huh,” Dean rubbed against Castiel’s cheek with the tip of his nose. “So now that you’re mated are you King?” 

“What we did wasn’t just mating, it was pair bond, exclusive, forever ...”

“Yeah, I saw the Twilight movie, I get it,” Dean touched his thumb to Castiel’s cheekbone. 

“That wasn’t in the Twilight movie,” Castiel fell for the trap. 

“So you have seen that, but not the Disney classics?” Dean laughed. “Shame.” 

“Dean, we’re making them angrier,” Castiel said, presumably about the cloud telephone thing but Dean was too mesmerised by the fall of Castiel’s lashes over the hollow of his eye socket. Too enchanted by the shade of pink of Castiel’s lips. 

“Thought that’s what you wanted to do.” 

“Oh no, that was just teasing,” Castiel said, dipping his head down to kiss Dean properly. 

“Now that we are bonded,” Castiel said when the kiss finally ended, his hand held over Dean’s heart. “You’re mine and I am your’s. Do you feel that?” 

Dean nodded sincerely. 

“Nothing will ever change that,” Castiel said. “And now I have to go.” 

Dean nodded again. 

Castiel stood up slowly, he walked to the front of the stage and said to the world. “I, Castiel, prince of the Mer by recognition of the alliance of Merfolk, hereby abdicate my claim for the throne. I am not your true prince and I never will be. The prince is dead, long live the prince.”

The roar became deafening and the rain poured.


	17. The Outcast

Castiel had smiled beatifically. Thereafter, Dean was to dream of that look the merman gave him every night and probably every waking hour too. The straightness of his back, the long lean lines of his legs etched out by the blustering wind, the sleuthing of the rain down his neck. The crowd had gone wild, throwing their heads back in a scream of song. The piercing sound harmonising into something rich and tonal, the pitch varying in great waves, washing over Dean like an insurmountable tide. Castiel was haloed by glare, the boom of flashlights capturing the abdication cast a heavenly glow over his features. His eyes looked like sapphires, no exaggeration, and there was so much joy and relief in them. He turned slowly to face Dean and wordlessly took Dean’s hand. Dean was still in shock at what Castiel had done, when he realised that Castiel had sunk down to one knee. His lips when they pressed against Dean’s fingers were wet and soft, his breath hot in contrast to the coldness of the rain. When Dean’s hands fell to Castiel’s shoulders automatically, Castiel rose up and surged against Dean. The kiss was anything but regal, messy and desperate and a little obscene. With a squeeze of Dean’s fingers in his palm, Castiel yelled something over the noise of the stadium. Then he jumped off the stage in an easy leap, right into a cluster of his followers. Hannah was gesturing and Gadreel was shouting, Castiel kept smiling as he disappeared into their fold. 

Everyone started to leave and when Dean saw Sam standing patiently at the bottom of the stage, thousands of empty seats behind him, he figured he should too. 

* * * 

Then things went back to normal. Of sorts. After a week of media speculation of the whereabouts of Castiel and the future of human and Mer relations the interest died down. The embassy remained open on skeleton staff, slowly pushing out paperwork. There was a lot of that going around, record numbers of the visitors who had attended the ‘consummation’ had decided to remain. The swamps were filled to the brim and every day more arrived at the seawall. About a fortnight later, Bobby called Dean up informing him that he had run out of ‘special leave’ and ought to return to work. The first day back on the job, Dean was near shaking when the wall opened for the morning rush. He had been so hopeful that Castiel might step in through the opening, a sly grin and a haughty expression on his face, bemused by Dean’s shock. Of course, Castiel didn’t. The arrivals never said anything to Dean about the fiasco of the Mer matings. Occasionally, Dean caught one or two taking long looks at him but they always averted their curious eyes when Dean acknowledged their interest. Dean was still asking around for information on Castiel, the new folk would answer him to the best of their ability and were always polite. There was something about the way they behaved around Dean though, a kind of distance verging on awe. Dean supposed having their paperwork stamped by the mated of the last Mer prince was a lot to take in for most Mer who stepped through custom clearance. 

Dean rushed through his days in a haphazard fashion. He knew that this was the life Castiel had gifted to him by giving up on his claim to the throne. This normalcy was in Castiel’s view worth sacrificing his crown. Not that Castiel ever told Dean the reason behind the abdication, Dean read it between the lines in their correspondence. 

And such correspondence. Jack from the embassy had visited Dean in the aftermath, apparently on his mother Kelly’s orders, though Dean suspected Castiel was checking up on him. Dean let Jack into his apartment. Jack looked around with great interest, marvelling at Dean’s reading nook and diving into the great fishbowl of candy that Dean kept for guests. 

“You sure you’re not Mer?” Dean had asked as Jack nosed around, doing several laps of the compact space in the living room. At least he hadn’t headed towards the sleeping zones, not like Castiel who had honed in on Dean’s private space like a heat seeking missile. 

“Don’t think so,” Jack had said. “My mom was a wildlife correspondent, sure, but she said she met my dad in a bar.” 

“Swim up bar?” 

Jack parted his lips and grinned widely. “That was humorous.” 

Dean frowned at the young man, there was something familiar about his eyes. 

“You related to Cas?” 

“Perhaps you see him in everyone who you associate with the time you got to spend with him,” Jack said in an understanding tone. “Do you miss him?” 

Dean shrugged and tossed him a can of coke, he didn’t want to get mopey around the kid.“I go to work. I get by.” 

“I think he misses you,” Jack pulled out a phone from his jacket pocket. “Here.” 

It was one of those phones that unlocked with face id. Somehow it instantly recognised Dean. 

“You can’t call him, but he’ll communicate with you using it,” Jack explained. 

“Yeah, okay, which app?” 

“All of them.” 

Dean scrolled, there were pages and pages of every kind of social media, most of them things Dean hadn’t even heard of. He found one where a red notification bubble indicated there was a message. Dean tapped on it and opened the app, there was what looked like a blog about cats, but the direct message to the account already set up for Dean stated simply ‘Hello Dean’, followed by ‘what’s your favourite type of cat?’. Dean was so instantly absorbed in messaging Castiel back that he didn’t even notice Jack saying his goodbyes and taking the fishbowl of candy with him. 

* * * 

And that was how it started. Every morning Dean would wake to a fresh notification on sone of the many apps, he and Castiel would message intermittently. The accounts would last a couple days, a week at a stretch before Castiel moved onto a another platform. They didn’t talk about feelings, or the future, or anything to do with anything. Except small everyday observations, tiny glimpses into the random things Castiel took an interest in in his downtime. Every night there would be a tag or an image or some other digital gift that made Dean feel a little closer to his missing mate. It might take days or weeks to have a conversation but Dean was convinced it was a kind of courtship. The slow and steady kind that he and Castiel never got to enjoy in the throes of politics and rituals. 

Dean didn’t care that as far as the public was concerned Castiel was yesterday’s news. Dean wasn’t ever going to forget him. He didn’t feel put on hold, he sensed a sort of respect and granting of space from Castiel. The passion he felt for Castiel on the island did not abate so much as burn like a self sustaining fire. Warm and strong and patient. 

* * * 

About three months after the mating, Hannah visited Dean at work. She was dressed more casually, he supposed because Castiel was no longer using her as the decoy royal. Hannah appeared more urbane and sounded more colloquial when she sat down in the staff cafeteria opposite Dean. He eyed the visitor’s pass around her neck and was a little surprised to see she had no security detail. 

“I haven’t exactly notified him of my visit here,” Hannah said, there was no need to specify who she meant. “I know the two of you are in contact.” 

“I’ve learnt a lot about his preferences for tea, companion animals and trees.” 

“He’s not telling you where he is and what he’s up to?” 

Dean shook his head, pulling a face as Hannah dipped her fork into a reheated lunch pack. She ate it with a healthy appetite, savouring the mashed vegetables and gravy as if it was a delicacy. Dean was drinking black coffee to get himself through his evening shift. 

“You know Cas, he likes to keep his tracks covered.”

“And that does not bother you?” Hannah blinked her large eyes at Dean. 

“He tells me what I need to know. I don’t need the specifics of his political movements. I’d rather know what his favourite dessert is.” 

“You trust him,” Hannah looked at Dean appraisingly. “That’s remarkable, took me years to do that. I can understand now what he sees in you. Well, I can tell you a little about what happened subsequent to your bonding. The deep-downers denounced him as a traitor, pronounced your appointment as royal guardian to be invalid and Castiel is now officially exiled from all Mer territory. The alliance is shattered and there is only fractions and fighting amongst our leaders.” 

“That sucks,” Dean put down his coffee. “Anything I can do to help?” 

“No,” Hannah said, a subtle smile gracing her lips, she looked younger and a little devious. “Castiel has it all how he wants it. Naomi and her gang might think they’re winning but what needs to be done is well underway. Soon, he’ll come for you.” 

Hannah was grinning now, studying Dean’s reaction. Dean ducked his head and took a deep sip, hiding his blush. 

“You are a critical part of his plan,” Hannah continued. “We need you positioned in a particular role. I’ve pulled some strings and you’ll be getting a transfer into a new unit. You’ll still be a part of MAPS but you’ll be getting off the wall and working in the swamps.”

Dean looked up and stared at her. “Is that why they approved Benny’s request to transfer to the swamps yesterday? He applied weeks ago, said he wanted to keep an eye out for Andrea with all the bad stuff going on.” 

Hannah’s face looked more sombre. “You heard about the rumours?” 

Dean peered at her. “Are they true?” 

Hannah nodded. 

“What kind of creature would do that?” 

They were moving away from the friendly chat about Castiel’s schemes and entering a different territory. The story hadn’t exactly been picked up by human media yet, but Dean had enough connections to the Merfolk now to have heard it. A Mer was found in the swamps about two months ago with brutal injuries. Then it happened again, the second time around the victim was a Cepha. 

“Anyone could have done it, even a human.” 

“We’re not strong enough to challenge a Mer, let alone a Cepha. If it weren’t for the steroid effects of Siren poison on the island, I wouldn’t have stood a chance against Raphael or Crowley.” 

A strange look crossed Hannah’s face and she shoved a mouthful of mince into her mouth. Taking a moment to chew and swallow. 

“Maybe it was a group of humans.” 

Dean frowned at her. “Feeling you might be a bit biased.” 

“We have bloodlust but sneaking around killing other folk is not only wrong, it’s humiliating.” 

“For the victim?” 

“For the killer!” Hannah tried hard to explain. “Challenging someone physically is how we like to sort out conflicts. There’s a hierarchy, the strongest lead the rest. What’s the point of defeating your opponent when no one is there to see it?” 

Dean had a flashback to a stadium, a stage, a bed and a face drenched by rain. “Yeah, you guys do like to put on a show.” 

“The folk who were killed, they weren’t a threat to anyone,” Hannah dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. “I heard that Bobby’s going to assign the case to you and Benny. Well, heard it and arranged it. You’re loyal to Castiel and I believe in your abilities.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Just how much do you guys have? How did you manage to do that?” 

Hannah stood up. “We are not all as divided as you think. Some of us are on the same side.” 

With the oblique remark she said her goodbyes, made a vague comment about checking up on Dean again at another time and left. 

Before she exited the cafeteria, she turned and tossed something through the air. Dean caught it in his palm. It was a small pin, shaped like an angelfish. The body was white mother of pearl interspersed with black obsidian and a stripe of iridescent yellow highlighted the creature from nose to tail. Dean remembered seeing it pinning a drape on Castiel’s ceremonial robe. 

“It’s a totem for his clan,” she said. “You’re his mate, you should wear it.” 

Dean clasped his fingers over the jewel. 

That night Castiel and Dean spent some hours discussing the personality of angelfish, their territorial behaviours and habitats. Dean fell alseep with the phone in one hand and the pin in the other, Castiel still sending him gifs of marine creatures well into the night.


	18. The Dreamer

_What were you dreaming of?_ 

Dean checked his phone with bleary eyes. The message had come through after Castiel had been out of touch for almost a week. Dean sent through something along the lines of ‘Damnit Cas, where have you been?!’ Though with a lot more expletives. 

_I was up to something_ Castiel’s oblique reply made Dean exhale on a laugh, he was awake now, turning on his lamp and trying to work out how to video call on the random app Castiel was using. 

“Of course you were,” Dean said when the conversation window finally opened, his voice softening when he saw Castiel’s careworn face. “You look ... tanned.” 

Castiel poked out his tongue for a second, it was very pink, the same fleshy hue as his generous lips. He looked darkened by the sun, a hint of crows feet showing at his temples, his smile bright in the blazing sun of where ever he was. It was still the middle of the night for Dean. As it happened both of them were bare chested. Dean raising the phone up high to maintain his modesty, while Castiel had his laid by his side at a rather low angle. Dean could see golden skin laid over lean muscles, water splashed and bronzed like some enticing magazine spread. There were glimpses of white sails in the background, the sea a mediterranean blue. 

“So do mermen have like a pouch or something?” Dean asked. “I’ve been wondering where you put your phone when you swim around.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” Castiel grinned, flashing white teeth. 

“You don’t look too torn up about being outcast,” Dean told Castiel about his meeting with Hannah. 

Hannah never asked Dean not to tell Castiel about it. Dean didn’t want any more secrets between them, Castiel already kept his cards close to his chest. As far as it was possible, Dean was going to be an open book with Castiel. Maybe it’ll prompt him into divulging more to his ... friend? Guard? Mate? Dean didn’t quite know what he was to Castiel, except that he was important enough for Castiel to keep in touch with. That was more than enough for Dean. 

“Oh like they haven’t done it before,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Every few years it happens, maybe this time it’ll stick.” 

“Uh, you missing being the big clam?” 

Castiel squinted at Dean. 

Dean was giggling, the interrupted sleep and relief at hearing from Castiel making him feel giddy. “Big clam, like big cheese, alpha wolf, big fish. Lion fish? King Hotstuff of the Sea?” 

“Not one of my official titles but I’ll tell Hannah to add it to the list for future consideration. No Dean, I don’t miss all the duties of my office. The past few weeks has been far more productive without the scrutiny of an entire royal entourage.” 

Dean didn’t even ask Castiel what he was up to. Judging by the sunny look on his face whatever it was was going well. Dean couldn’t imagine Castiel lying low without plotting some game changing feat somewhere. Their conversation flowed steadily for a few more minutes. Dean found it much easier to talk to Castiel over the phone than in person. There was less electrifying staring for one and Dean didn’t have to fight the constant urge to taste the words coming out of Castiel’s mouth all the time. So it made sense that wi-fi signals made for better communication for the two of them. 

“I do miss you, Dean.” Castiel said like an after thought as Dean drifted off to sleep again. 

* * * 

He was breathing air for the first time in a long time in his dream. Watching as the other him stepped calmly into the water tank, the long dark strands of hair obscuring his face. The familiar palm offered, pressed against the glass in a calming gesture. He took in a deep breath when the gills opened in the human’s neck. Did he still fit that term? He couldn’t believe the miracle of it, was rooted to the spot where he stood. He was standing, had it been months or years since he last stood on his feet? 

“Get your tail on!” He was trying to say, flapping his arms and testing his voice cord but the sounds emerging from his throat were hoarse screams. 

His replacement looked calm, giving him one firm nod. Curling up his legs to his chest, hiding the long limbs in a tangle of seaweed. His torturer came in through the door. 

“Hurry,” the man looked panicked. “Your mom is waiting.” 

* * * 

Dean tried not to worry about Castiel the next time he was incommunicado. It had only been three days but the Mer were in the news and Dean had felt uneasy about it. It was electoral roll time and the political rhetoric was increasingly more pointed at the refugees who flooded the wall. The most inflammatory politician running for mayor was Richard Roman. As amusing as street protests against The Dick Party was, Dean was sickened by the bigotry Roman preached. Even though the man was professing full support for annual height increases to the wall and doubling boarder staff, Dean still loathed the guy, whether or not his fear mongering would ensure Dean stayed in a well paid job. Having experienced first hand the zealousness of the deep sea Mer and encountered the likes of Naomi, Dean had started to understand why so many Mer were fleeing their traditional waters. He might be biased but even with Dean’s limited knowledge of Mer politics, he got the sense that Castiel and his allies had been the only Mer leaders who strove to help their people. The rest of them were too caught up in their violent territorial claims, full of prejudice against humans and arrogant to boot. So basically swimming Dicks with scales. 

To make things worse, Hannah’s prediction that Dean was going to be sent to work in the swamps was realised. Bobby called Dean the night before to ask him to attend a special briefing. Dean had been calling Benny’s phone all morning to try and get a sense of what the briefing was about. When Benny finally picked up, his usually mellow voice had an edge to it. 

“Can’t talk right now, I’m in the hospital with Andrea,” Benny told Dean. “And I might need you to bail me out later if this administrator tells me again that my insurance doesn’t cover my fiancee because she is ‘not human’.” 

Dean called Bobby as soon as he got the hospital’s name out of Benny. Bobby was livid and promised to call the hospital and menace them to admit Andrea. By the time Dean got there, Benny was pacing the waiting room while Andrea sat in a wheelchair, flipping through a book. Dean noticed that she was tailed out beneath the bedsheet wrapped around her waist. People were giving them a wide berth, mostly because Benny’s usually kind face was bulging with stress veins and he was all puffed up and short tempered. 

“It happened this morning, she wasn’t even submerged, and now she can’t change back,” Benny said hurriedly. 

Dean scratched his head. “Is it a Mer thing? I can call Sam, I know he’s in touch with that expert, Chuck Shurley. If anyone knows anything about it, Chuck would know.” 

Benny’s eyes lit up like Dean had just thrown him a lifeline. “Can’t believe I’ve been standing here like a turkey when my best buddy’s got folk on speed dial. Call Sam, call Chuck, call Castiel! Call them all Dean.” 

Andrea put down her book and looked up at Dean with a smile. “Castiel has nothing to do with this situation. Sam would probably get too excited and Chuck, well, you can tell Chuck. He would be pleased.” 

Dean looked at Andrea’s calm demeanour and Benny’s flustered sweaty face and put it together in his head. Steering Benny with a hand on his elbow, he pulled his friend aside. 

“I think I figured out what’s happening here bud,” Dean cleared his throat. “Is Andrea pregnant?” 

Benny looked thunderstruck. He turned mutely to stare at the mermaid, his mouth agape. She winked back at him. 

“What To Expect When You Are Expecting,” Dean rolled his eyes as he pointed to the book in Andrea’s lap. “Kind of a giveaway there.” 

“Since you made me come here, fins out and all, might as well get the scans,” Andrea said graciously. “When that’s done I’ll tell you all about the clams and the eels.” 

Dean laughed. “Like the birds and the bees? Hasn’t Benny figured that out?” 

“The dugong and the kelp forest then,” Andrea continued. “A far more convincing tale than large beaked birdlife and leafy vegetable patches.” 

* * *   
Dean left once Andrea was taken in for the ultrasound, Benny pushing her down the corridor with a look on his face that alternated between beatific and terrified. Dean left the hospital with a lighter heart than when he entered, though he still wasn’t looking forward to his new assignment. He had been a creature of habit for many years, for as long as he could remember. Castiel was literally the most exciting to have ever happened in Dean’s life. While adventure with Castiel was full of bravado and discoveries, left to his own devices, Dean didn’t like change at all. 

He had been to the processing lines at the swamps when he was inducted into his role. That was a long time ago, back then the place was basically salt marshes that couldn’t be farmed or built on. The swamps were surrounded with a levee, a kind of wall, Dean supposed. On a much smaller scale than the one that cut off the coast of course, but still tall enough to keep the inhabitants out of sight and out of mind of the human population. Dean remembered seeing tents set up in the muddy fields and watching an officer slowly progress through the paperwork for a queue of glum faced Mer. For some years the boundary levee was built up, Dean occasionally crossed paths with the swamps patrol which basically involved standing between the levee wall and the sea wall, putting up a show of keeping the itinerant Mer compounded. As for what kind of living awaited the new arrival on the other side of the levee, Dean had no idea. Benny might have been keen to work in the swamps because Andrea lived there, Dean was not so sold on the prospect. Now with Benny going on paternity leave, Dean was all the more unwilling to change up his routine. He probably should have just told Hannah he didn’t want to be their ‘man on the inside’ but what if this was something Castiel needed him to do? Castiel never mentioned it in their communication but even the slightest chance that this would help Castiel somehow made Dean reluctant to decline. 

Bobby was waiting for Dean in his office, uncharacteristically, he asked Dean to shut the door behind him. There were no other officers in the room except Donna Hanscum and Jody Mills. 

“Jody’s been our officer in charge for a while, you weren’t told about her special role,” Bobby said as soon as Dean sat down in front of his desk. “She’s FBI, been here undercover as a MAPS officer since the start of the year.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows and Jody dipped her chin in quick acknowledgement of his surprise. 

“Donna’s no ordinary doctor either, she’s been working with the NGO, the one for humane treatment of Mer or something like that,” Bobby said gruffly. “I worked that one out quickly enough. She was far too qualified to be a mere medic. She was gathering information on how we treat the arrivals, whether we keep them in accordance with UN requirements.” 

Donna shot finger guns at Dean. Dean fidgeted with his uniform sleeve. 

“So a fed and a spy,” Bobby sighed. “And the best people I got.” 

“I thought that was me and Benny,” Dean interrupted. 

Bobby shot Dean a glare. “You boys may be good at stamping papers and running queues, you ain’t good at the extra stuff.” 

“What stuff?” 

“The crimes, keeping the peace in the swamps, making sure there’s some justice for people the system’s treated poorly enough already.” 

“Benny’s an ex-cop and I’ve dealt with the Mer,” Dean shifted a little shyly. “Especially lately.” 

“Well, Hannah and Gadreel thinks you can deal with more than what you got on your plate now,” Bobby pushed a file towards Dean. 

The paper folder had all sorts of stamps on it, swearing the peruser to secrecy. Dean opened it and saw two pictures that made him close it quickly. 

“Fuck,” he said. 

“Two dead folk in the swamps, there’s gonna be a third and a fourth,” Bobby said solemnly. “And on and on unless we stop whoever is doing it. Donna’s been gathering forensics for us and Jody has been chasing down leads out there but she can only get so far being a human officer. We need you to go in and use your natural uh affinity for Mer to your advantage.” 

“You really think I can do it?” 

Bobby huffed and pushed another folder into Dean’s hand. “I think you’re just the man for it.” 

Dean opened the second file and was relieved to see there was nothing gruesome in it. It was just a photo of a section of the sea wall. The next photo zoomed in on the familiar shape of the concrete footing that stood behind the perimeter barrier, supporting it, there was a smudge of street art on the pillar. A vivid black and white fish a streak of fluorescent yellow on the crown. 

“Wait, that’s Castiel’s totem, the angelfish,” Dean looked at Bobby, Jody and Donna in puzzlement. 

“Look again.” 

Dean frowned down at the tiny figure with his back to the security camera. The image was infrared so the quality wasn’t great, but there was no mistaking the shape of the unruly short hair and bulky trench coat. 

“There was an explosion last night at the wall,” Bobby said. 

“What?” Dean was in disbelief. “I didn’t hear anything about that, had the radio on all the way here.” 

“You wouldn’t because it’s been kept secret. Just like the others.” 

Dean could feel all the blood rush to his head. “How many?” 

“There’s been explosions along the wall for weeks Dean, ever since that fiasco of a mating ceremony, seven was the last count,” Bobby said. “I think you might be the man to catch him.” 

Dean stared at the picture in disbelief. It couldnt’ be Castiel. Castiel had been in exile for weeks, had been out of the time zone, why would he want to blow up the wall? Dean’s mind was a confused muddle, protesting that Castiel was one of the good guys. He totally didn’t catch all the details of the assignment, the promise of a terrorism specialist attache, a meeting place and a time. 

“Maybe you’ll like the new guy,” Jody said on her way out. “He’s Mer too.” 

Dean glared at her, head still buzzing with all the revelations of the evening. “You saying I got a type?” 

Jody shrugged. “Hey, I’m not saying they’re all the same. I just mean you get along well with folk.” 

“The only Mer I wanna get along with is not here,” Dean said, stripping out of his uniform in the unisex locker room and putting on a plain t-shirt and jeans. He shouldn’t have bothered dressing up in his customs gear, Bobby wanted him on duty in the swamps tonight, and that meant street clothes, undercover. 

“Give the guy a chance, he’s real good and he’s been working hard on the case on the Mer side, gave me all my best breaks,” Jody said. “Emmanuel is really a heck of a detective.” 

“Aww, I’m getting jealous,” Donna complained as she ticked the fitness to serve forms for Dean. There was a mandatory health check before deployment on undercover operations. Bobby was really rushing this one through. 

“Hey I haven’t met the guy but I know you’re prettier,” Jody said to Donna with a wink. 

“You can’t charm me, nark,” Donna said with a playful smile. 

Dean looked at one then the other, they turned placid eyes on him, giving away nothing. Dean shrugged, they’d tell him when they wanted. 

“Emmanuel is a stupid name,” Dean said, pushing through the change room door. “Doesn’t even sound Mer. Castiel, Gadreel, Andriel, Hanniel and Amthiel, they’re all Mer names.”

“Maybe it’s an adapted version of Emmaniel or something,” Donna suggested. 

“Andrea is Andriel and Hannah is Hanniel? Who’s Amnthiel?” Jody asked. 

“Charlie’s new girlfriend, the mermaid with the purple hair during the swim trials? The one that swam back to help us?” Dean said. “Charlie’s very open about the status of her relationships.” 

Jody looked at Dean blankly. Donna cracked saying “Don’t expect us to share everything with you, who made you king of hookups?” 

Jody gave Donna an exasperated look. 

“No one likes to be called a hookup, Donna,” Dean flitted his eyes to Jody. “To their face.” 

Donna frowned at him and then stomped her foot as she chased Jody out. 

“I hope Emmanuel is a total dick,” Donna said to him as she brushed past. 

“Count on it,” Dean said flatly and headed for the garage. 

It was far enough to the levee of the swamps that he would have to take a car. He hesitated when he looked at the Impala, not a great choice for undercover work. His eyes slid to the corner of the garage where a motorbike they used for urgent paperwork deliveries was parked. At least the bike was black.


	19. The Specialist

The levee walls looked different to how Dean remembered, even from cursory passes he had made on shift months ago. The material looked reinforced and up in the distant apex there were rolls of barbed wire. Dean looked around with fresh eyes, taking in the additional security, the physical barriers and the ever present surveillance cameras. Ash was at the gate and Dean’s eyes were transfixed to the thigh holster his colleague was wearing. 

“Ready to gear up?” Ash asked, waving at a woman inside an elevator station mounted half way up the wall. 

The young woman waved back, Dean recognised her by her pale blond hair and petite frame. Her name was Jo, she was a new recruit, just 22. There had been a cake when it was her birthday and some of it was left over when the shift had changed. Dean remembered eating the peanut butter cream off the chocolate sponge. The cake had been made in the shape of a puppy, Jo’s mother had made it, the puppy held a fish tail in its cartoon jaws. Her mother had a weird sense of humour. The black rum in the cake had been sinfully sweet and it was one of the most deliciously ugly things Dean had ever eaten. 

“We’re not allowed to open the main gate at night,” Ash explained as they ascended in the elevator. “They’re more placid during the day.” 

Dean gave Ash a weird look, Jo pulled a face. 

“You’ve only known the Mer royals, they’re civilised,” Ash went on. “There’s only ever a handful of them and they wear suits.” 

“Yeah, cause suits make you look more human,” Jo muttered, Dean could see her rolling her eyes. 

“When they are in the swamps they go savage. There’s so many, they cluster and they are, well I don’t like to say it, but they are feral. We don’t go anywhere without our armour and tasers. The special officers have more than that. What weapons clearance you got Dean?” 

This was a whole new side of Ash that Dean had never seen before. Ash had always been an easy going guy whenever he joined Dean’s crew at the bar. He always just had a quiet beer and watched the game, chatting amiably before he went off. Come to think of it, that would have been right before he started work. What the hell was going on in the swamps that a guy like Ash needed to have a drink before he could start his shift? He didn’t smell intoxicated. Dean’s nostrils flared and he thought he could scent something salty on the breeze. Maybe it was the brine from the swamps, or if Dean let his imagination get ahead of him, it was Ash’s fear. 

“I’m up to date,” Dean cleared his throat. 

“Oh yeah, I remember you telling me,” Ash stood up a little straighter, his face a little less tense than it was. 

Dean was a little embarrassed to remember the drinking session they shared at the start of the year, when Dean was celebrating getting the top-tier clearance for ammunitions. The training had been funded by the city and Dean had been excited to get it. It had never crossed Dean’s mind why a customs officer needed to have expertise on a range of hand guns, going all the way up to automatic rifles that could be set up to operate like machine guns. There were pages and pages of waivers that Dean had signed and ever since then he had received a small stipend additional to his usual salary for having qualified for ‘crowd containment’. Jo was looking at Dean with judgement in her pale blue eyes. Jo had darkish eyelashes rimming her watery irises, that reminded Dean of Castiel. Dean looked down at his feet. 

“Jo’s only got her taser,” Ash said admonishingly. 

“And my winning personality,” Jo said with a tilt of her head that made her honey coloured tresses bounce over her shoulder. “I get by.” 

“Well, I’m gonna stand close to the specialist then,” Ash said, not really sounding like he was joking. 

Dean followed Ash’s line of sight up to the top of the wall. There was a figure standing there, outlined by glowing lights behind. Dean could see black boots, tightened all the way up the calf of clinging black pants, a fitted waistline with glossy attachments that Dean didn’t quite have time to catalogue in his head, a pair of silver cuffs secured over a shapely hip. The torso widened out to broad shoulders, artfully clad in black leather, glossy obsidian detailing in the zips and tabs and push buttons along the front. Dean was already lightheaded by the time the elevator stopped, his hand grasped tight over the security bar, as he stared through the gaps at Castiel. 

“Emmanuel, Dean,” Ash introduced them. “Dean, this is the Mer specialist you’ll be partnering up with.”

Castiel looked at Dean without a word, his face blank. 

Dean was still trying to wrap his head around the black leather outfit and the wild wind swept hair. 

“He doesn’t carry a taser,” Jo said with an awed quaver to her voice. 

Castiel smirked, sliding his eyes towards Dean. 

“He doesn’t need to,” Ash reprimanded her. “He has a blade. And he’s him.” 

“Let me show you around Dean,” Castiel said, shouldering past the officers and turning to walk away. “Don’t let Ash scare you. You’ll be in safe hands.” 

* * * 

While going up the wall was cool, getting down it was all tedious admin. Ash made Dean put on a barrier vest and sync his radio. Castiel leaned with his back against the wall, one kneed bent, watching in silence as Dean was briefed about security procedures. There weren’t many officers in the building and the whole place seemed more reliant on face id and automated security gates than personnel. Maybe that was why no one was yelling out that the Mer prince Castiel was pretending to be a detective, Dean figured. How could anyone be buying this undercover gig? Here was Dean who had his face splashed all over the media as Castiel’s consort. And here was Castiel, a decadently leather clad Castiel sure, but still unmistakably him. No human had cheek bones like that, and angelic eyes to boot. Dean felt increasing frustration as Castiel stayed quiet, played dumb, acted like he didn’t feel the urge to push, claw or ravish. Like Dean was feeling. 

Dean had turned up in his jeans and a t-shirt but Ash shook his head at Dean’s get-up. 

“You’ll get drenched, go find him something will you Jo?” 

“Way ahead of you,” Jo tossed a jacket into the air and Dean caught it with both hands. 

It was a worn brown leather number, long lined jacket with handy pockets and it fit beautifully across Dean’s shoulders. Castiel’s eyes lingered a little longer on Dean when he put it on. 

“That’s not fitted correctly,” he said slowly, pushing off the wall. 

Dean froze when Castiel knelt on the floor and reached for Dean. His leg trembled when Castiel seized the thigh holdster strap and with his other hand pushed down over the in-seam of Dean’s jeans. Dean’s whole body jerked when Castiel gave the thigh-holster strap a sharp and firm pull. Maybe the taser had misfired inside the holster, Dean felt like he’d been electrified. 

“Let’s walk,” Castiel said, turning and Dean gritted his teeth. Castiel’s leather jacket was fitted and cropped. It didn’t hide his ass the way the customs trenchcoat usually did. All Dean could do was follow, very closely.


	20. The Angel

This couldn’t be the swamps, Dean told himself, as he marvelled at street after street of commotion. There was just as many people here as the city centre Dean lived in. A lack of town planning led to cramped alleyways and ingenuity built the hundreds of LED signs that advertised a plethora of goods and services. Though everything looked built from scrap timber, the buildings were multi-storey. There were Mer everywhere, adults and the elderly, male and female and in-between. The canals were choked with tails and tentacles and the people walked or swam with their head fins on display, glimmering incandescent in the gloom of shadowy doors. In the chaos Dean thought maybe there was a chance they might not be noticed but then he saw Castiel nodding and smiling at Mer like they were family. Dean supposed they were of a sort. The crowds parted where ever they went, as if sentient of Castiel’s intentions. Dean quickly realised it was not anonymity that kept them safe, there was respect and acceptance of their role. 

“Exactly what is going on?” Dean reeled as an entire aquarium sent past on the back of what looked like a bicycle, bulbous shapes floating in muddy water. 

“Shark egg season,” Castiel replied. “They are delicious and affordable at the moment.” 

“I mean us, what are we here for?” 

“Our duty, Dean,” Castiel said, somewhat sing-song. “Keep the arrivals contained, maintain boarder sovereignty. Maybe solve a couple of murders too.” 

“Is this what you’ve been up to, all those months you’ve been away? I thought you were overseas, thousands of miles away, but really you were half an hour drive towards the marsh lands?” 

“I was that far away at times,” Castiel clarified. “But yes sometimes I was closer than you thought. Can’t afford the international roaming bills otherwise, the amount we communicated.” 

“We could have ‘communicated’ in person,” Dean said gruffly, refusing to budge from the middle of an intersection. 

Castiel looked down at the hand Dean had clasped to his elbow, Dean couldn’t work out how or when his own hand did that. The crowds stopped suddenly, Dean noticed a circle of distance was forming around them, one or two Mer couldn’t help but stare. 

“I coulda’ve been useful to you, to your cause,” Dean swallowed, then in a whisper he added. “I was lonely.” 

Castiel turned and faced Dean, his face tilted up, their noses could have bumped. 

“And what is my cause Dean?” 

Dean searched for something specific but could find only confusion. There had been so many incarnations of Castiel, so many games and so little certainty. Dean thought hard. 

“To help the Mer,” he finally committed to an answer. 

Castiel glared at him for a minute then his face broke into a grin. “Is that who I’m helping?” 

Then they were walking again through yet another alleyway cramped with stalls and streaming with bodies. Castiel kept walking for about an hour and Dean spent the whole time trying not to let the crowds get to him. He wasn’t exactly afraid of masses but the sheer number of people per square foot was overwhelming. They went from end of the swamps to another, seemingly in loops, until Dean realised that was exactly what they had been doing. Like a fish put into a new tank, they were going in circles. 

“Are you trying to get as many Mer to see us as you can?” Dean was incredulous, how was this at all incognito? 

“That’s our job, we’re police officers now, or least in here we are,” Castiel said reasonably. “It’s more about being seen than anything else. Like chasing or arresting. Don’t worry though, I’m sure we’ll get to do those things too eventually.” 

“Why do you need them to see us together?” Dean asked. 

Castiel smiled. “You figured that out sooner than I had hoped. Come on.” 

Dean found himself pulled into the shelter of a doorway, Castiel spinning them so that Dean was hidden in the darkness, shielded form the street lights by Castiel’s clothes. 

“There’s been some unrest,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear. 

“The explosions along the wall,” Dean hissed back, trying desperately not to melt into the warmth of the leather Castiel wore. 

“We’ve been dealing with climate change and pollution and acidification and Michael for generations. The oceans aren’t what they used to be, freedom and bounty, our territories are shrinking, the waterways uninhabitable, there’s been no juveniles for years.” 

Dean’s eyes widened at the graveness of the picture Castiel was painting. 

“The mating trials was the first thing my people could celebrate in decades. Whatever we are or aren’t to each other, for them we’re hope.” 

Dean leaned further into the arm Castiel had braced beside his head. The lights flickered as raindrops fell. Castiel pressed in closer, swearing softly under his breath and turning up his leather collar. Dean’s hands were tucked between their stomachs and his fingers, of their own accord, slipped between two buttons. 

“This is good publicity,” Castiel said, breaking the moment. 

Dean shook his head, scrutinising Castiel’s carefully neutral expression. “I think,” Dean said hoarsely. “We’re a little more than that.” 

Dean was pulling at his own jacket, shrugging off the leather, a droplet fell on his shoulder and a sour smell rose up, then Dean yelped as pain burnt down his chest. 

“Fuck,” Castiel cursed and pulled the jacket back up Dean’s arms, quickly securing it tight around Dean’s body. He pushed Dean flush against the alcove of the doorway and forced Dean to bend his knees. 

Hunched over Dean, Castiel panted. “Acid rain, can’t you see everyone’s gone?” 

Dean’s voice was muffled in the vicinity of Castiel’s chest. “Can’t see nothing, you gonna hug me all night?” 

“Till the rain stops,” Castiel said. 

“Wait, how is your head not melting off?” Dean struggled until Castiel loosened his grip just enough for Dean to peer up. 

There was a ring around Castiel head made of light and droplets. Nothing was falling past the invisible barrier. 

“It’s a fucking halo,” Dean muttered. “You are an angel.” 

Castiel winced. “I don’t like being called that. The the ring you see is created by technology. There’s not much of it available, some royal Mer control it exclusively and won’t share it with their people. It creates a serf system and cements power for those like Naomi and Michael.” 

“You keep mentioning this guy,” Dean noted. 

“He’s one of our oldest royals. Naomi has more tech but her stash is pretty general purpose. Michael’s is exclusively high-end. Gene tech, terra-forming and weaponry and Michael is more playful with it. The Mer who don’t have access to tech call us the angels, because of things like the halo. It is a derogatory term.” 

“Like ‘hybrid’?” Dean asked. 

“Hybrid is only offensive if you believe in genes and natural selection. You would have to be a puritan to look down on a hybrid. But yes, I am a hybrid.” 

“Is the acid rain something Michael is responsible for?” 

Castiel shook his head. 

“Us then,” Dean licked his lips. 

“You don’t experience it in the human zones as much because the government cloud seeds using chemicals to draw the rain onto wasteland. People would panic and ask too many questions. There would be protests. Here it happens almost every night.” 

Dean blinked, his eyes stinging. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. We didn’t know.” 

“We can treat leather to neutralise the acid in the rainfall, we have been working on water clarification processes using acid resistant plankton. People like Charlie and Kevin and your brother have contributed to the building of the Mer zone for years now. Come on, it’s stopped now and our shift’s almost over.” 

Dean followed Castiel out of the alleyway in a more subdued mood. While it was heartening to hear Sam and their friends have long aided the Mer, Dean was ashamed of how blissfully ignorant he had been of the conditions in the swamps. As Dean watched the industry and commerce that flourished in the mire, all he could do was admire the people who dwelled there. And Castiel as he walked through the drizzle, that blue halo still glimmering when the wind blew acrid sea-spray their way, he was a guiding light for Dean. Dean might not be privy to all that Castiel schemed but he knew enough of Castiel’s character to harbour abiding love for the man. 

* * * 

Jo was sitting alone at the security desk when Dean and Castiel re-entered the check-point. 

“You guys had a good night?” She asked brightly. 

“We just did the rounds,” Castiel told her. “I’ll take Dean to the locations where we found the victims tomorrow night. Thought I’d break him in easy.” 

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked my first time,” Jo said with a sympathetic look in Dean’s direction. “Not exactly what they tell you in the propaganda is it?” 

Dean nodded at her.

“Well, Ash has gone to do the handover to the day crew. You guys can leave from the main gate, if you want.” 

Castiel smiled bleakly and made a courtly gesture towards the clearance area with his hand. “After you, Dean.” 

Dean stepped through as the levee gate ascended, the morning sunlight streaming into the shadowed ponds. Ash was standing there with about fifty armed officers, their weapons at the ready. A group of Mer were waiting to enter, their suit cases and weary faces gave away their new arrival status. 

“Here’s this morning catch,” Ash said cheerfully as Dean and Castiel passed. “Not nearly as many as you would normally net. They sure they can spare you for swamp raids?” 

Dean gritted his teeth and swallowed the bile that rose up his throat. Castiel followed. 

“You leaving Emmanuel?” Ash was surprised. 

“Got my new partner, gonna follow him home,” Castiel said in a jovial voice. “Don’t worry, I have the clearance for it.” 

“Don’t like letting one of you out onto the human side,” Ash said, only half in jest. “But Bobby Singer’s word is law in MAPS. You must have a friend or two out there.” 

“Not as many as I have in here,” Castiel said. “See you tonight.” 

“Better see you again,” Ash laughed. “No taking off and playing human. You keep an eye on him, Dean, he’s slippery.” 

“Like a fish,” Castiel said with a chuckle. 

“Later fish dude,” Ash gave Castiel a mock salute as they cleared the line of snipers. 

Dean was silent when he straddled onto his motorbike. He didn’t say anything when Castiel sat behind him and wound his arms tightly across his abdomen. Dean started the engine and revved it once before taking off as quickly as he could. Back to the city where the rain fell sweet and pure and the citizens knew nothing of the Mer’s plight.


	21. The Human

“I need to stay with you.” 

That was all Castiel said as the elevator made its way to Dean’s floor. Their floor, Dean suddenly thought, and sure enough there was a duffle slumped against the front door when they got there. No explanation was offered to Dean as to how it got past the keycard accessed front foyer and secured lift. With an uplifted brow, Castiel waited patiently for Dean to open the door. Dean fumbled with his keys, his piece of coral key chain twirling as it dangled. There was a flash of white toothy smile when the door opened. 

“Excuse me,” Castiel muttered as he squeezed past Dean into the doorway, duffle and all. 

Dean watched dumbfounded as Castiel dumped his pack in front of the couch and started shrugging off his black leather jacket. He held it out in front of him with a scrutinising eye then went and found a hook in a nook of the hallway. Castiel draped the garment right next to Dean’s green hunter’s coat. Looking at the two items side by side, Castiel looked thoughtful. 

“We can go and pick up my dry cleaning on the way to work, in the morning,” Castiel said conversationally. “In the meantime, that’ll do.” 

Dean wondered if Castiel was talking about that beige coat Dean had gifted to him when they first met. The idea he might be right was somehow pleasing. Castiel was sorting through the rest of his personal items one by one, now that he had gotten started. Dean licked his lips as Castiel rifled through pairs of socks (strangely eclectic), a blue jumper, a few white t-shirts and a neatly folded stack of underwear. 

“Where are you putting those?” 

“Bedroom closet?” Castiel pondered. “I don’t intend to live out of a duffle.” 

“I guess,” Dean said slowly, his mouth increasingly dry. 

Castiel lifted his eyes, understanding making him smile. “But of course that might not be good for access.” 

Dean bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. What did that even mean. Did Castiel imply he was going to sleep in Dean’s bed? The very thought was paralysingly mind boggling. Or did he mean he would not be able to access his clothing easily because he would be crashing on the couch, since Dean didn’t have a guest room? Or did he mean he wanted to move in altogether. Sure they’d been talking to each other everyday and sure Dean was really really into him but was that a bit out of order since they hadn’t even been on a date yet? Getting chased by paparazzi or killer Mermen not counting as dates of course. 

“You moving in Cas?” Dean defaulted to going to the fridge to grab some beers. It was what he normally did when Sam came to stay unexpectedly. Usually because he had met some sort of set back in his research, or there had been an algal bloom that had decimated a marine sanctuary, or he had just gotten really sunburnt. This didn’t exactly feel the same as having Sam over. Sure Castiel was playing it casual but Dean was still pretty sure he was dreaming. Maybe he’d been dreaming for months, dreamt Castiel into existence. Would be more believable than the devastating reality of rebel prince Mer angel currently trying to work the pull out bed on Dean’s Ikea couch. 

“Don’t worry I’ll make my stay worth your while.” 

Dean stared as Castiel fussed with the cushions. Laying the exotic tie dyed pink and purple hued one over the chunky slightly misshapen one Sam knitted for Dean one Christmas. Dean brought his beer to his lips and gulped it nervously. He was getting mixed messages from Castiel all over the place. 

“You flip it that way, no this way,” Dean put his drink down on a coffee table, forgetting to use a coaster even, and rushed in to help Castiel with a particularly stubborn knob. 

Their hands touched and Castiel blinked with concentrated effort. 

“Give it a really hard pull,” Dean arched his back and with a grunt the sofa springs gave way, unfolding into a slouched shape. 

Dean sighed at the sight of the pull out bed. Sam had really been to tall and too heavy for the petite little single frame. The plastic mesh that served as a base was dipping and curving like a flimsy wave. 

“I thought I loved my brother, but apparently not really,” he said looking at the sorry state of the bed. 

Castiel didn’t seem perturbed. “I’ve slept in a lot worse. A full stomach and a hard night’s work is sleep aid enough.” 

Dean nodded. “If you’re sure Cas.” 

Castiel spent the next hour or so raiding Dean’s fridge and pantry, saying something about it being customary for Mer to feed their hosts. The rest of Castiel’s pack was filled with bottles and cans. Dean helped Castiel find a spot in the cupboard to stow the packets of exotic spices he had brought. Soon the kitchen was filled with the fragrant scent of cooking rice and frying eggs. To Dean’s surprise Castiel took out a can of processed salted meat and cut it into thick slices. This he slowly roasted over a hot bare pan, letting the fatty juices seep out. When Castiel laid out sheets of seaweed Dean realised he was making sushi. The way Castiel folded the rice, spam and avocado slices inside the kelp reminded Dean of a sandwich being made. Castiel found a pineapple in the fruit bowl which Dean had purchased on a whim and never bothered to cut up. He took to the fruit with a kitchen knife and sliced the most precise grid around the cylindrical shape. It was clear to Dean that blades were really an implement of choice for Castiel. 

The meal Castiel served was perfect for the late morning. Savoury, oily, filling and sweet. The pineapple salsa cut through the richness of the sushi sandwich. Dean wracked his brain as to what style of cuisine they were eating. 

“Japanese fusion,” Castiel said, heaping Dean’s plate up with more salsa, sprinkling a dash of chilli flakes over the salad. “They ate this kind of food near the American air bases, hence the spam. I make this sort of thing often because all the ingredients keep well.”

“You’ve travelled a lot Cas?” 

“The seven seas, several times a year,” Castiel dipped his head when Dean passed him a cold beer, sighing as he took a long drink. “Unmated Mer are meant to explore new territories for nesting sites and mating opportunities. Biologically speaking.” 

“But you’re not all about the biology.” 

“No, it’s just a politically expedient excuse. I’ve been forging alliances. That’s how I met Hannah and Gadreel. Like minded people who want something else for our future than doom and gloom. We were pretty extreme in our younger days but time and travel mellows a person.” 

Castiel was talking faster as the meal and drinks relaxed him. Dean sat on the living room rug with him, the television playing some random lifestyle show softly in the background, the day brightening outside progressively. It was homely. 

“We thought the world was going to end, at one point, that there was no point to all the civil wars raging, the tech hoarding.”

Dean’s eyes widened. 

“But then we did our research. Talked to the human scientists about the state of the climate. The thing about humans is that the instinct to destroy is second only to the instinct to survive and flourish. For every criticism about consumerism there is the flip-side of choice, of free will. The world is full of good people who might not be all that aware of what’s going on outside their immediate circle of comfort but they’ll come rushing in to help, not to help a government or for some great cause, just if someone else, some ordinary person needs it, they always help. People like you.” 

Dean blushed. “How can you trust us like that?” 

“How can I afford not to?” Castiel said, his lips a little glossy from the food. “If I didn’t trust you on the island, I probably would not have made it through. When we work together, Dean, it’s like magic and mayhem. It feels amazing.” 

“I mean, thanks Cas, but I was talking about trusting us humans.” 

“I used to dislike humans,” Castiel said. “I thought humans were selfish, short sighted and well, weak. In the ocean, being a human is like being a helpless child. You don’t have the stamina or the skills to survive the harsh elements. Humans need other humans while the Mer are independent. A single Mer could circumvent the world twice a year if they desire.”

“What changed your mind?” 

“I found a human who was all those things, he had all those frailties but he set them aside to help a Mer, for no reason other than that he could.” Castiel had a far away look in his eyes. “And I liked that human very much.” 

Dean swallowed the last of his drink. It had gone to his head so much that he was wondering if the the human Castiel was talking about was him. 

“That was more than ten ago,” Castiel finished. 

Dean picked up the used dishes. Long before he had ever met Castiel. He took the utensils to the sink and began to methodically wash them one by one. By the time he was done, Castiel was curled up on the rug, the wonky pull out bed forgotten and fast asleep. 

“You can’t sleep there,” Dean coaxed him up from the floor. 

Castiel was mumbling sleepy protests but he let Dean lead him by the hand into the bedroom. Dean pulled aside the covers and half pulled half rolled Castiel into the centre of the mattress. Dirty leather pants and damp black t-shirt and all. He tugged the keen high boots off Castiel’s calves gently and set them aside. 

At the door, Dean paused to look at Castiel again. Just to make sure he was the one dreaming sweetly and not Dean. His face relaxed looked younger though Dean could see the signs of fine lines beneath Castiel’s eyes. The tanned face was half covered in overnight beard growth and Castiel’s mouth fell slightly open as he snored softly. 

Dean had never seen someone so beautiful. He tried to remember that as he sat down to the groan of the protesting pull-out bed frame. He was definitely going to have to upgrade to a daybed for his guests sooner rather than later.


	22. The Date

As the sun was setting Castiel awoke full of vigour. Dean had laid out breakfast/dinner. It was a simple meal of leftover chow mien, which Dean was eating wrapped up in a white corn tortilla. He had woken earlier than Castiel, his back choosing consciousness over discomfort. 

"I didn't mean to kick you out of your own bed," Castiel said apologetically, stretching as he went to grab a shower. 

"That's okay Cas, you obviously needed the rest," Dean raided the linen cupboard for his softest fluffiest towel and handed it over. 

"The water pressure is amazing and it's continuous on demand hot water," Castiel called out to Dean. "I think I love you! They don't even have hot plumbing in the exclusion zone. Most folk don't care about cold showers." 

Dean tried not to get too stuck on Castiel's exclamation. His cheeks were still burning when Castiel emerged in a haze of smoke and pink flesh. Dean's hand only shook a little when he handed over the coffee cup. Castiel's praise for Dean's brew was copious and liberal. He ate the meal with gusto and kept smiling at Dean over the rim of his mug, as if he was very pleased with himself. 

"I like your apartment," Castiel said conversationally as he dressed, casually digging through Dean's closet. 

Dean dared to follow Castiel into the bedroom, where of course the sheets and quilts were shaped into a nest once more. The pile looked inviting. The room had that slightly dry smell of deep slumber, Castiel had opened a window through which the dusk streamed pink and coral and powder blue. It must have been a beautiful day when they had both been sleeping off their night shift. 

Since Dean’s building was in the centre of town, it had more luxurious features and generous proportions. The elevator was big enough to ride up in on the MAPS motorcycle. Dean had parked it in the spacious hallway, where it’s scratched paintwork and muddy wheels looked artful and imposing. Pulling on their leather jackets, Dean climbed on and Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's stomach. They rode all the way down together in the elevator, out of the garage and onto the highway. The last golden rays of the afternoon gilding the smooth bitumen road, the buildings giving way to mangroves. The coastal wall diminishing behind them as the swamps barrier reared up ahead. 

* * * 

"It looks like experimentation," Castiel said, sticking his gloved hand down the bathtub drain. 

This was what passed for a Mer motel. A wooden shed, partitioned by scrap-wood, tubs and drums and barrels in each room, just big enough for a single occupant. The room they were in was on the back end of the shed, in a makeshift structure that was entered via a second exit. It was more cramped and filthy than the others. 

"No one heard anything?" Dean said, looking around in disbelief. 

"Everyone was out the night it happened," Castiel said quietly. "Religious ceremony." 

Dean blinked. "Even you?" 

"Yes," Castiel rolled his eyes. "It was our mating. So I was somewhat preoccupied." 

"Why was he here then?" Dean wondered. 

"His name was Arthur Ketch, liked to call himself Mr Ketch. He was a mercenary who enjoyed the economic opportunities the exclusion zone offered,” Castiel rattled off the information. 

The tub had not been cleaned since Ketch was found inside it weeks ago. Dean’s stomach roiled when Castiel had approached it, standing a few feet back and breathing through his mouth. Castiel had grasped the edge of the tub and then with a skillful heave emptied the whole thing out. The liquid gushing down the open drain at the back of the cubicle. An emerald layer of sludge was left in the bottom of the barrel, which Castiel stirred with a gloved hand. Dean had been impressed by Castiel’s strength given the size of the tub and how heavy it must have been with all that water inside. Though even more impressive was Castiel not holding his nose as he went through the ordeal. Now Castiel was half clambered inside the bath and gleefully examining every handful of gunk he pulled out of it. 

“I think I got it,” Castiel held up a grey piece of something in his hand. “Get me some clean water?” 

Dean went to the bath next door and returned with a scoopful of liquid that was almost clear. 

“Best I could manage.” 

“That’ll do,” Castiel swished his hand inside the scoop then held up the item under the dim bulb swaying overhead. “I need more light.” 

Dean took out his cell and put it on torch mode. He could already see a strange glimmer off the piece of plastic or something like it in Castiel’s hand. 

“What the fuck,” Dean said when the light shone on it, the beam shattering into a cascade of rainbows across the plywood walls. “It lights up like a disco ball. Is that holographic?” 

Castiel nodded and carefully stowed the piece into an evidence bag. “The body we recovered seemed completely human, but when I examined it closely there were gill scars along the neck.” 

“What so Ketch was actually a Mer?” 

“Or trying to become Mer,” Castiel pondered. “Or maybe he didn’t want an upgrade, it was forced on him.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows. He had been somewhat mind blown when Castiel had alluded to Siren venom being able to turn humans into Mer. As far as Dean knows Castiel was the only Siren left of the royal Mer line. That was what made Castiel special, right? Dean didn’t think Castiel would bother to turn Ketch into a Mer then kill him then investigate his murder with Dean. Castiel was full of tricks but that line of thought was simply just convoluted. 

“So what is that thing?” Dean asked instead, pointing at the piece of crystal or horn or whatever that had sparkled so prettily in the light. 

“It’s a piece of broken off scale, from the tail he had when he was killed. The rest disintegrated when he reverted back to his terrestrial form.” 

“How can a guy’s tail disappear like that?” 

“Well those pieces would have still been attached to him, so when he died the nanos would have taken care of them.” 

“The whatsits?”

Castiel smiled innocently at Dean. “Hey you feel like taking a snack break on the way back to forensics?” 

* * * 

There was a lot of traffic going back into the city. After winning the election for mayor Dick Roman had put in curfews. He went on television and gave some big spiel about saving energy and slowing down climate change, but Dean figured it was really in response to the bombings along the wall. Everyone was supposed to be tucked in and locked down by midnight. Dean weaved the bike through the meandering convoys of cars, till Castiel’s arms tightened around his chest. After a particularly ticklish nudge in his ribs, Dean stopped the bike. 

“What? Cas, come on, we’re on duty,” Dean gasped when the helmet came off. 

Castiel was practically leering. “I can’t wait Dean.” 

Dean looked around at the darkened road, there was no one around this part of the high way, in the distance a diner was still open with a vacant carpark. 

“We could uh go to the ditch,” Dean shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. 

Castiel was nodding then he stopped. “Why?” 

“For cover, the cars can’t see us as they drive by?” 

Castiel tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t we want to be seen by the drivers?” 

“Hey look, that one time on the stage when you grabbed my shoulder and well I know you liked that sort of uh public display but me, I’m more into the private stuff. You with me Cas?” 

“I think I’m starting to follow,” Castiel blinked, his voice gentle. “I was propositioning you for a dinner date but you have assumed that I wished to copulate with you in a field by the side of the road.” 

Dean stared at Castiel. Then he sighed, turned his burning face towards the diner and started marching. 

* * * 

There were checkered table cloths and waxy tapered candles. There was pasta and garlic pizza on the menu but Castiel steered Dean towards the specials board which advertised burger specials. They ordered herbed bread sticks and plate of mushroom ravioli to share. Then the burgers arrived, plump and juicy and dripping with cheese. The pickled fries were the best Dean had ever had and Castiel’s excitement upon the arrival of the cheese burgers made Dean blush. 

Dean was so used to his cheeks burning by then that he simply tucked his chin in in the heel of his hand and watched mesmerised as Castiel chewed and groaned. 

“This, I’m going to miss this the most,” Castiel said through a mouthful. “I always used to stop here for a bite when I went back and forth between the embassy and the exclusion zone.” 

Dean sipped his ginger ale thirstily. 

“We’re relocating our head quarters,” Castiel said, setting down his burger and reaching for Dean’s pop, swallowing down a mouthful. 

“What?” 

“When the case is solved, the whole embassy is going to be disbanded. To tell you the truth since my banishment the embassy, which represents the Mer alliance, really has lost all its sense of legitimacy. I just didn’t want to stop pay-rolling the human staff straight away, needed to give them their notice you know. Poor Jack was a very committed staff member.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You were gonna tell me about you leaving when?” 

Castiel looked at Dean and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “I’m telling you now aren’t I?” 

Dean sat with his hands on the table for a moment. Then he looked up again. “Well Sam lives on a boat anyway so at least we’ll stay in contact.” 

Castiel ate some fries. 

“So you gonna Tom Hanks me tonight?” 

“I’m not turning you into a Mer,” Castiel said. 

“Come on, you’re a siren, you’re practically the only one in existence who can turn me. You’ve put your mark on me, or laid your hand on my shoulder, or bonded with me or whatever. So of course Cas, I’m going with you, if you’re going. Now, I don’t mind travelling in a boat or bunking with Sam on his but surely it’ll be more convenient if you just made me a mermaid. Merman. Whatever.” 

“You can’t come to Atlantis,” Castiel said. “The political situation is still too unstable. And contrary to what you believe, I do not have the ability to make you Mer. I wish I did, I wish I could just look at you and tell you to be one. But if wishes were seahorses we’d all be swimming to the Great Barrier Reef riding on them.” 

Dean stared at Castiel’s solemn face, his blue eyes glittering with sincerity, his beloved cheeseburger forgotten. 

“Pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes,” Dean croaked. “But damnit you’re cute.” 

Castiel licked his greasy lips shyly. 

“You got anymore exposition to lay on me, Cas?” Dean reached for his own burger, sinking his teeth into jalapeño sauce and smoky onions. “Long back story?” 

“Not really,” Castiel folded his hands and sat back with a satisfied grin. “Oh except that whole siren thing. I have to confess I am not a siren at all.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not even surprised.” 

“Ten years ago, there was a siren, a juvenile Mer, who was captured by Michael, that’s Naomi’s boss. The youngling was kept under guard, experimented upon under Michael’s orders. They were trying to induce toxin extraction from it. The one who was charged with that unsavoury task is someone you know. Chuck Shurley. He’s been working for Michael for decades, ever since Michael tracked him down using cyphers hidden in the Atlantic database. Most folk think that I’m the lost prince, the siren, because of my long standing friendship with Chuck. So they call me the Mer prince. The truth is I milked that rumour for all it is worth to my own end. I never believed in the siren mythology and who cares really, what does a prophecy that says a siren could save the world mean when the world has been spinning out of control for years? There is no import to such romantic notions of some magical saviour who would charge in and stop the apocalypse. We have only ourselves to rely upon.” 

“I would think the same, in your place,” Dean nodded. 

“Yes, so I thought,” Castiel smiled wistfully. “Funny how things turn out.” 

The conversation drifted to vague promises of staying in touch when the Mer embassy moved. Castiel reassured Dean that he would not disappear on him again. 

“If me moving into your apartment isn’t enough proof already,” Castiel smiled. “I might just have to sleep with you to convince you of my intentions.” 

Dean passed the evening in a haze of anticipation. The paperwork for sending the scale fragment to forensics seemed to take forever. By the time they finished their shift and got back to Dean’s place, it was almost 7 am. Dean was surprised to see Jack standing in the foyer of his building, a bundle of dry cleaning in his arms. They invited Jack up and was given the news that Gadreel had that morning departed from the embassy and headed home for the Pacific Ocean. Castiel did not look too perturbed at the news, though Dean guessed this was a blow for all his plans. By the time Jack had left, the mood was somewhat dampened. Dean cleaned himself up and headed for the pull out couch. Castiel emerged from the bedroom and gave Dean a challenging look. 

“Want to check out my nest?” He said. “I hope you’ll find the symmetry and interweaving pleasing.” 

Dean walked into his own bedroom with a light head. Castiel was wearing plain boxer briefs and a white singlet. The soft cotton glowing against his tanned skin. He climbed into the pile of blankets in the centre of Dean’s king size bed, muscled limbs draped comfortably over the overspilling pile. Shyly, Dean shed his t-shirt and pants. Castiel’s eyes blinked slowly as he took in Dean’s bare chest and abdomen. 

“Delectable,” he murmured. 

Dean looked at Castiel and agreed wholeheartedly. He practically vaulted onto the bed and then spent a few minutes anxiously snuggling to the expanse of creamy flesh and warm skin, interspersed with downy cotton and crisp sheets. 

“Cas, oh fuck,” Dean nosed at the centre of Castiel’s chest, damask nipples and soft trail of hair tickling at his cheeks. 

“Mmm, this is so nice,” Castiel sighed. “Come here.” 

He pulled Dean in and tucked him under his arm. Dean felt harboured by the firmness of Castiel’s torso. Their bodies harboured each other and everything was warm and soft. 

Castiel had a little more body hair than Dean had seen on other Mer and the texture of it, the scent of him was everything that was comforting and cozy. Dean swam in the warmth, taking in great lungfuls of air to remember how warm and sweet Castiel felt. He fussed over every inch of skin, the curve of Castiel’s elbow, the line of his neck. Castiel laughed softly, huffed and stretched, his fingers rubbing over Dean’s scalp. The sun brightened at the seam of the blockouts, throwing a golden edge around the curtains. 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna explode,” Dean panted into Castiel’s ear. 

A soft snore answered. Dean pulled back, startled. Castiel’s head was thrown back and his chest heaved rhythmically. 

Maybe there was such a thing as being too comfortable, thought Dean. Though as he rolled closer into Castiel’s side and the walls of the nest enveloped them, Dean could hardly get enough of the hitherto unknown sense of peace that seeped in soul deep. 

Castiel jerked and snorted “Sex, Dean, now?” then promptly began snoring again. 

“We’re all good Cas,” Dean pressed a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s open mouth. “Sleep.” 

“Morning, night, I’ll sex you Dean,” Castiel promised. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean chuckled, closing his own eyes blissfully. “When you get around to it. No problem.” 

“Will,” Castiel slurred. “Will sex real good.” 

Dean was still laughing when he fell asleep.


	23. The Delivery

Dean was woken by a not so gentle nudge. 

"I need to go, now," Castiel said, he was shrugging on his leather jacket. "Didn't want you to wake up and think I've disappeared on you." 

Dean shoved his face into his palms, rubbing his eyes open with his knuckles. "Don't even think you're going without me." 

Castiel threw on another layer of clothing, Dean noted groggily that it was the beige trench coat. Ostensibly, it had been dry cleaned but it looked just as soft and worn to Dean as ever. "You need your rest Dean, this is a personal matter. Just an errand."

"Then you can have me tag along." 

Castiel leaned in close, the nest of bedding Dean was sprawled in suddenly felt very warm and crowded. "We're bonded for life, profoundly and inseverably. Let me go chase up my parcel delivery." 

Dean lowered his eyes, he didn't want to seem clingy, but there was so much going on out there. The bombings, the politics, the fact that Castiel was an outcast rebel. They were living together and probably married under Mer lore but they still hadn't gone past necking and shoulder holding. 

"I want to watch your back, Cas." Dean said softly. "On the island, I was so much stronger and faster because I wanted to help you. You bring out the best in me. Do we have to just do that in dire circumstances? Can't we work like partners if we live like partners?" 

Castiel stared at Dean for a moment. Then he grinned. "I'm headed for the exclusion zone, if this takes too long we'll have to stay there for our shift too. You won't be getting much beauty sleep today." 

"I can handle that," Dean climbed out of the bed. He was expedient, stepping into his jeans and leather coat before quickly brushing his teeth. 

Castiel rode the motorbike while Dean held onto him this time, since Dean didn't know where they were headed. The highway was far more packed with peak morning rush traffic but Castiel swerved and weaved them through the worst of it. Dean had the sense, as he clung on to the merman's broad back, that they were sailing through waves of humanity. Surfing their way past the surging tides of cars and trucks like some freaking cool dolphin on some Hawaiian wave or something. It had felt liberating the way that the bulky carriage of the Impala never managed to convey in congested city traffic. Dean made up his mind then and there that he was going to take his baby out onto the fast roads one day soon. He wasn't going to spend his life putting up walls any more. And the Impala was coming too. 

The security for the Mer zone was still tedious to get through, even though Dean knew a quarter of the guards from MAPS. There were more new faces than familiar ones. Dean remembered Garth bitching about Roman calling the capital for reinforcements. Dean noticed the whole area looked more militant than ever, there were people with long range weapons patrolling the high points, nozzles pointed towards the itinerants inside the camp. 

They ditched the motorbike with Ash and walked the rest of the way in. Once they were on the folk side, things felt a whole lot less creepy. There was activity everywhere, foods being sold at stalls, creatures being hauled out of the mangroves and bartered, more scrap wood being nailed upon each other to create more makeshift buildings. New arrivals were greeted and led away by friendly faces, some of them must have been family members judging by the smiling and hugging. The buildings grew closer and closer together till they merged into one giant wooden shamble that was a mini city on its own. One entrance way featured a lit up tank mounted over the door way, glowing bubbles twirling and sparkling inside. An occasional dark shape drifting past faster than even Dean's eyes could see. 

"Doesn't look like a post office," Dean said as Castiel led him inside. 

Timber booths, stained bar, filtered lighting and kelp roll smoke. The entire back wall held water tanks. Dean recognised them instantly, they were the older make of the clear plastic full length tanks the MAPS officers used at the seawall for submergings. Lights were rigged behind each tank so that they were lit up in rainbow colours. The ceiling overhead was draped with ropes and hooks. A sticky film of viscuous something glossed over pretty much everything. There were figures floating in some of the tanks, fins moving languidly to the breathy vocalisations playing over the ambient speakers. 

Castiel approached one of the tanks, tapping on the glass. The mermaid inside whirled around, her teasing smile disappearing off her face as she recognised him. Biting her lip, she surfaced at the top of the tank, pulling herself half out of the water. 

"Ruby, you're supposed to be up at the University applying for a field study grant," Castiel said. "And here you are in a house of indiscriminate welcome." 

Dean lifted his eyebrows, he had never met Ruby before and didn't know what her dealings with Castiel were. She had dark hair which was closer to black than brunette. Her eyes were wide set and her face angular. She was beautiful the way all merfolk tended to be but her features were especially symmetrical and structured. She looked more classically handsome than pretty. It was a face that would be easy to trust. 

"Why am I even surprised you didn't hold up your end of the bargain?" Castiel sighed. "So Meg disappears with my delivery and you are not playing your part like you agreed to do?" 

"It's a Friday night, the lectures are finished, I was bored," Ruby said sulkily. "I wanted to be with my people, not role playing some innocent college human female for your schemes." 

"I gave you and your sister amnesty, despite her attempts on Dean's life, on my life during the trials..."

"You would have given us amnesty anyway. You would've said it is because you're better off having us as allies than on the many other sides opposing you, but really it's because you're a soft touch," Ruby's hand went to Castiel's tie. 

Dean took a step closer to Castiel but it was too late. She pulled him into the tank in a split second, pushing him into the bottom, tail thrashing as she forced him down. 

There was a great exhale of bubbles as Castiel's gills opened but he remained in his terrestrial form. Dean rushed up to the tank, nails scrabbling frantically on the plastic surface to no avail. His hands grasped for his concealed weapons, pulling out the taser from his thigh holster, realising belatedly that it didn't shoot bullets that could shatter the tank and water and electricity definitely did not mix well. 

There was movement along the ceiling, Dean could see flashes of darkness as the shape moved at superhuman speed, flying amidst the hooks and ropes. When it finally landed on top of the tank, Dean recognised Meg in the brief fraction of a second before she opened her mouth. A great jet of ink shot into the tank, darkening the whole tube instantly. Ruby and Castiel disappeared from view. Then Meg reached in, pulling out Ruby and Castiel. 

Dean stared with wide eyes as her muscular tentacles held Ruby and Castiel aloft, far enough apart that Ruby could not claw at Castiel or lash him with her tail. Castiel's eyes were closed. 

"Did you have to ink me?" Dean's heart settled back into his ribcage when Castiel groaned, wiping at his eyes and mouth. 

"You never minded the taste of my ink before," Meg said and Dean felt his guts lurch. 

"I'm a bonded man now," Castiel said. "And my betrothed is right here. Please be respectful."

"You two know, KNOW, each other?" Dean gasped. "I know you know of her on the island, did you used to ..." 

"They dated, it was a terrible idea," Ruby interjected. "A cepha and a mer is gross enough but Castiel isn't even ..." 

Ruby was answered with a shot of bitter ink right into her mouth. She spluttered and made gagging noises. 

"Do excuse my half-sister, she has no manners," Meg said, gliding down off the tank. When she reached Dean she reverted to her terrestrial form. "For the record, Clarence, I did the delivery exactly as you specified. The change in consignment wasn't up to me."

Those massive black tentacles disappearing inside sleek leather tights was weird. Dean couldn't help but stare at her lower body, where did she put those things? He had known Crowley was a cepha but he had taken Meg for human for most of the trials until she turned on them and attacked. He had thought she was just plain mer. 

"You weren't just secretly working for Crowley, you were trying to win the trials!" Dean suddenly understood. "You wanted Cas for yourself." 

Meg's milky skin showed the stain of her blush easily. "I was not. I was paid to defeat you, it was strictly business." 

"Got anymore tentacles in your closet Cas?" Dean said testily before turning back to Meg. "I won fair and square."

"Oh blame Castiel for having a life before he ever met you. That's not jealous and possessive! He was out of his mind on the island," Meg jabbed her finger into Dean's chest. "My deal with Crowley aside, I had to see for myself whether it was passion or poison that had him so enthralled to you." 

"This is so awkward to watch," Ruby said sulkily. "Just give it back to him and they'll leave us alone Meg." 

Castiel folded his arms. "Please, Meg." 

Dean stopped arguing, his mouth dropping open when Meg pulled out Castiel's blade from some hidden nook on her person. It glowed silver, Dean's scowl deepened. He closed his mouth firmly and walked out of the bar. Castiel sighed and spoke to Ruby and Meg for a few more minutes while Dean was gone. 

Dean stood just out of the reach of the sprinkling rain, his head bowed, when Castiel finally emerged from the building. They walked away from the core district in silence. 

"You going to talk to me, Dean?" 

"Yeah, of course," Dean shrugged. "Shift started 10 minutes ago." 

"There's a very good reason Meg had my blade." 

"Oh you want to talk to me about your personal life? Not just work? Fine. The blade. The thing that pulses and is alive and is as dear to you as your life?" Dean said sarcastically. "Sure. She needed it to open letters. All the love letters you sent her when you guys dated. Which you didn't bother telling me about when she tried to kill us. Or maybe just me and my friends." 

"That's so snarky it doesn't even make sense," Castiel said. "I know you're upset..." 

"I'm not upset," Dean threw up his hands. "I don't care, I don't care so much I don't even care that I don't care." 

"Yes, obviously," Castiel sighed. 

"So what do we need to do, for our work, now?" 

"Talk to the second victim's next of kin," Castiel said. "This way Dean." 

Dean followed Castiel down a few winding streets until the buildings began to thin out. There was an actual clearing here, with a grand tent pitched in the centre. A figure rushed out, followed by a scattered group of mer. 

"You're not welcome here Castiel, unlike the rest of them, we don't follow you like love struck puppies," said the mer, he looked frankly worn-out, his skin was saggy and his body was not as sleek and well proportioned as Dean was used to seeing mer. He looked more like a middle aged car insurance manager than a wildling. As he delivered the insult, he glared at Dean pointedly. 

"Just doing my job, Zachariah," Castiel said casually. "Think of me as a civilian, who is a police detective, with special agent status granted by MAPS. Assisted ably by an experienced senior boarder officer. We're here about Uriel." 

"We know you've taken him, he's probably rotting in one of those tanks at the seawall right now," Zachariah sneered. "I'm glad you had to abdicate Castiel, you would have been a tyrant. Look at you silencing your opposition using your human connections." 

"Uriel is dead, Zachariah," Castiel said flatly. 

Dean watched Zachariah's face carefully as Castiel's words registered. The mer seemed to puff up with anger instantly. 

"You murdered him!" He accused, spittle flying as he worked himself up. "Uriel preached against your agenda, he was trying to get people to leave this hellhole prison camp and you silenced him!" 

"At the time when he died, I was at sea," Castiel said reasonably. "I am not considering myself as a suspect." 

"You see how he does it, uses human laws to mock us, pick and chooses which side he is on and always so changeable!" Zachariah shouted. "Cunning Castiel, foolish, fickle, floater!" 

Then they were upon them, twenty mer converging on Dean and Castiel. Pulling one away from the other. Dragging them into the tent.


	24. The Collector

There was a whole lot of screaming, Dean clasped his hands to his ears but the shrieks pierced through, stabbing at his head. The Mer were shouting at each other in song but occasionally a word or two would slip in. Dean would have attempted to understand it except he was too busy trying not to drown. Their assailants had pushed Dean and Castiel into the huge aboveground pool that took up all the space inside the tent. Clawed hands shredded and pulled at their clothing. Castiel was fighting back, his movements quick and savage but he was out numbered. Still he fought, blade slicing furiously, inching towards Dean. More Mer closed in on Castiel. Castiel grunted and bowed his head as he dashed forward, blade pointed. Even more Mer swam up in between them, their tails and talons a riot of colours as they clambered over each other to get at their target until Castiel was blocked entirely from view. 

Dean's attackers were more intent on dunking him in the water than knocking him out. Strangely whenever Dean's head submerged beneath the waterline the unbearable high pitched wails became more muted and melodic, he could feel his body responding to the sounds. Right now the song was passionate, triumphant with anger, rhythmic with energy, a few tones of confusion. Dean would have liked to listen more but the burning lack of oxygen in his lungs was excruciating. When he resurfaced, gasping for air, he heard shouting. 

"Kill the human consort!" 

"He is no king!"

"He's not gilling out. He can't even breathe, let alone swim." 

"False prophecy, Uriel warned us!" 

"Let him up! You will all let him up! We are not murderers!" 

Someone was pushing on his stomach, he was leaning against a firm chest, strong arms wrapped around his middle. Dean coughed out a mouthful of pool water. He looked up, expecting to see Castiel but it was a familiar stranger staring back at him. He was a young Mer, with a sincere face, sandy brown hair and appealing blue eyes. Dean remembered him from the mating trials. He was one of the first Mer to be injured and flown off the island. 

"I am Samandriel, Uriel's heir, you're under my protection," the Mer said and then shouted to the others. "Dean Winchester is under my protection!"

That seemed to intimidate the others, though Dean had no idea why. Samandriel was small and wiry compared to the older angrier crowd of Mer. They were all tailed out, their upper bodies bare, showing rag tag fins and marked flesh. Dean could see the loose skin hanging off Zachariah's thick middle, there were scars all over him and his tail looked twisted and bald. There was no finnage on him and he could barely steer himself in the makeshift pool. No wonder he was out of shape, he could barely swim. 

"It's Dean Winchester's fault Uriel is dead," Zachariah panted, tail thumping against the linoleum side barrier of the pool. "The hybrid admitted Uriel's death." 

Dean looked over to Castiel, pinned down in the water by three sizable Mer, largest of the murderous school gathered around them. Castiel's neck showed crimson lines where his gills flickered as his chest heaved. There had been a struggle and Castiel was certainly trapped but Dean could see that the Mer holding him down were looking more bruised and dishevelled than their captive, though Castiel was almost half their size. 

"I didn't kill Uriel, how is it my fault?" Dean asked. 

"If you didn't then your consort did," Zachariah stated with certainty. "No one else would want Uriel dead. He was a true follower of our lore, he preached peace and self-sufficiency. He came to this camp to convince the mer who had converged to disassemble. Nature should be worshipped, not controlled. The end of the world is coming and good riddance to the human rubbish I say."

"That is enough Zachariah, you have no evidence that Castiel or Dean is in anyway responsible," Samandriel said, loosening his hold on Dean. "I wish to speak to them in private, to assist them with their investigation." 

Zachariah's gills closed up, his chest puffed up with anger. "Late spawner, you are betraying Uriel's lore if you do this." 

"I am hardly the traitor and I will never know who betrayed Uriel unless I speak to Dean and Castiel. Any undue interference would only arouse my suspicions," Samandriel pushed Dean towards the edge of the pool, Dean clambered out awkwardly, his weight bending the plastic sides of the flimsy aboveground pool. He had almost died in a wading pool. 

"And I'll thank you not to call me that," Samandriel added. "I find it offensive. My spawning date ought not to make me any less or more respectable than the rest of you, regardless of what Uriel preached. Besides, you might find soon that I will not be the youngest Mer here. There is a mermaid who is pregnant, her gestation is accelerated and she will be giving birth in the next few days." 

The assembled Mer broke into shocked whispers. Some began to weep and Dean realised after a while that they were tears of joy. Others held each other, clapped each other's backs, hugged. 

"The father is a human," Samandriel elaborated. "I visited them last night and I have confirmed both the pregnancy and viability of the offsprings using our relics. The parents to be are at a secret location, I would say that the birth will take place imminently. Uriel never believed the prophecy that a Mer royal, the last Siren, would emerge before the great change. He thought that I was the last juvenile to be born, so he venerated me. But the only thing that I actually liked about Uriel is apart from asking you to be critical of the mythology you've been fed, he asked you to think for yourselves. So think. Go home and think."

Dean watched as the Mer slowly disassembled, talking excitedly and gravely amongst themselves. Castiel swam over to Dean's side of the pool, pushed up and stood in close guard. Dean felt the warmth of Castiel's hand as it gripped his. Some of the Mer turned and dipped their heads in the direction of the three of them, contrition on their faces, Samandriel nodding back calmly. Zachariah showed no such courtesy, slinking away with a scowl. 

Samandriel turned to Dean and Castiel. "I suppose you guys better come with me." 

* * * 

Castiel explained the religious ideologies of Uriel's group to Dean as they followed Samandriel through the streets behind the church tent. From what Dean could understand Uriel was a naysayer. Almost all deep downer Mer rejected the idea of a last siren. The very notion was a threat to their growing power as the climate worsened. The conservative leaders needed fear to gain control of the usually  laissez-faire merfolk population, whereas the prophecy gave them hope. Samandriel had been an orphan, tracked down by Uriel and brought along by him as he converted followers as a sort of living religious ornament. He was paraded in a tank as a juvenile and only as he grew in age was he given more liberties. The relationship between Samandriel and Uriel had been a complex one. Uriel had not been cruel but his teachings were bleak and self-serving. 

"I never loved the reverence of the crowds as much as Uriel did," Samandriel said, opening a doorway into a cramped courtyard. 

Dean whistled as they took in their surrounds. "Okay Ariel." 

Contrary to expectations befitting a living saint, Samandriel's quarters were small and filled with stuff. There was a pile of computer parts, next to a trio of stacked up car engines, a wind chime made of CDs clunked in the breeze. The inside of Samandriel's room was filled with wall to wall makeshift bookshelves. 

"I've digitised all of it," Samandriel said, running his finger down the spine of a thick volume. "But I love the physicality of a paper copy. I'll miss this library." 

Dean could see novels stacked next to gardening books, scientific journals crammed next to cook books and the largest collection of comic books he had seen outside of an actual store. They were served fragrant tea and dainty baked treats. Dean ate the pretty little cupcakes two at a time, famished by the struggle in the pool. Samandriel seemed pleased by his appetite and enthusiastically slathered baguettes with thick layers of butter, presenting them to Dean with a shy smile. Castiel ate more moderately, wandering around the studio and looking at the mish-mash of found objects with interest. 

"Thanks for the tip-off about Meg returning to the city," Castiel said after a while. 

Dean's eyes widened. 

Samandriel nodded. "I have long been in contact with Castiel. Unbeknownst to Uriel, I am part of his alliance. Though I suppose now we are a resistance. Please Castiel can we be that, it sounds so much cooler. Oh and since you're not letting us call you prince any more can I call you commander? Like they do in the science fiction movies!" 

"No Alfie, let's not," Castiel smiled, winking, settling himself down on Samandriel's daybed which held a jumble of books and blankets. 

Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel's familiar slump and casual pulling of the blankets to fashion it into a reading nest. 

"That's my adopted human name, the one I use when I sneak out of the containment zone," Samandriel told Dean conspiratorially. "Uriel's been watching me closely since you surfaced but I managed to get out on the night of your wedding. Which is why I was not there when Uriel was murdered. Though I was more his captive than kin, I am sorry he is dead." 

"Are you really?" Dean winced at the sarcasm in his own voice. 

"Yes," Samandriel said a little indignant. "Of course I am, any loss of life is tragic but the way Uriel was torn to pieces was frankly grotesque. Our numbers are already too small, to lose another Mer when times are so dire, is grave." 

"Don't mind Dean, he's just being territorial," Castiel said, flipping a page in an art portfolio, he picked up a pencil and was idly drawing. "Dean remember how we hung out with your brother at his farm? Samandriel is my Sam. Much as I love how green your eyes can get, there's no need to flex your appendages with my friend." 

"Oh, you're sexually jealous?" Samandriel looked startled, he leaned in close and peered into Dean's eyes. "To tell you the truth, I did consider offering myself to Castiel as a candidate for consort. Even after failing in the Mer trials. I admire him greatly as a person and find him aesthetically most attractive. However, I became aware of his attachment the moment he spoke of meeting you. Still I thought I stood a chance, but when I finally arrived on the island, the moment I saw him with you I realised I was wrong. Castiel is much changed since those days and I would never dream of interfering with a bond as profound as that between the two of you." 

Dean coughed awkwardly. Samandriel must have learnt his sense of personal space and blatant honesty from Castiel. 

"Besides, like he said, he thinks of me as kin," Samandriel sighed. "More cupcakes?" 

"Are you trying to make me fat?" Dean asked all of a sudden. 

"You could do with more energy reserves, yes," Samandriel said more cheerfully. "I'll pack you some to take with you." 

"Why does he think I need to put on weight, Cas?" Dean asked.

"When we do mate eventually," Castiel said without looking up from his doodling. "You'll be required to burn through a great store of body fat so as to sustain yourself over the many days and many many many nights." 

Dean blinked as Samandriel laughed and Castiel gave him a lewd wink with his tongue darting out of his mouth. Dean's ears and his heart was on fire. 

Though he was technically clocked in on his shift and really should be paying more attention to the ensuing conversation about leads on Uriel's slaying, Dean could barely concentrate on the job at hand for the rest of their visit with Samandriel. After the refreshments, Castiel and Samandriel discussed various Mer and Cepha Dean had never even heard of as potential suspects. They had narrowed down the field to someone who was not human. A single human would not be strong enough and a group of them would have been more easily detected. Castiel and Samandriel talked about places Dean had never been and spoke of Atlantis as their old country. The way they huddled over coffee, speaking in soft voices and sieving through information reminded Dean of Russian spies in Cold War movies, all intense and impenetrable conversation. Dean pitched in where he could with ideas and theories and he noticed that Samandriel was taken aback by them. 

"What if they are not related, Ketch in the bathhouse and Uriel in the alley. Just because both happened in the same timeframe within the walled zone." 

"There was one new arrival who we suspected for Ketch's killing," Samandriel said. "But we ruled him out because he was seen at the Fishbowl when Uriel went missing." 

"And who is that?" Castiel asked. 

"Nick, or Lucifer Prince of The Dark Abyss is his preferred title," Samandriel squinted as he mouthed the melodramatic title. "He came in claiming to be an outcast member of the royal family, downgraded due to his opposition to Michael. He was in such a dishevelled state we thought it most unlikely that he would have been capable of defeating Uriel."

Castiel nodded. "Uriel was a cautious Mer, you don't stay alive very long as a roaming preacher without good survival instincts. But like Dean said, maybe Nick was only responsible for Ketch, not Uriel." 

"Is it true? His incredible story about being Lucifer?" Samandriel questioned. "I thought Michael killed Lucifer years ago."

Castiel shrugged. "Nick was the human name Lucifer liked to use. That was not common knowledge." 

"Wait, is he a deep downer? You personally know this creepy conservative egomaniacal Mer?" 

"Yes Dean and of course I know him from the palace days," Castiel blew on the piece of paper in front of him, then held up the finely shaded sketch for Samandriel to see. "This is Nick?" 

The drawing showed a light haired male face with a sneering expression. 

"Kind of more arrogant in the eyes, but yes." Samandriel confirmed. 

Castiel set the sketch pad down and rolled his eyes skyward. 

"We need to go Dean," Castiel said. "I know exactly why he's come ashore." 

Dean rushed out after Castiel, loaded down with a box of delicacies that Samandriel insisted he take with him. Dean couldn't help but like the guy, his humungous crush on Dean's bond husband notwithstanding. Samandriel tugged on Castiel's trenchcoat at the door for his attention and softly said something. 

"Castiel, there should be no secrets between bonded soulmates," Samandriel reprimanded gently. 

"Peace, young one," Castiel said, his eyes kind but firm. "You are too much of a romantic, Alfie." 

Samandriel turned towards Dean. "I'll see you in the human city. With Uriel gone there's no holding me back from my liberation work. I am due to evacuate from the Mer zone tonight. The resistance has completed the processes needed to get me clearance. I'll be Alfie the human next time you see me, please don't blow my cover." 

Dean gave a nod. 

"We're not a resistance," Castiel said wryly. 

"Good night Commander and travel safely."

Dean didn't even bristle when Samandriel hugged Castiel lingeringly as they parted. The Mer prodigy might have been handsome, an awesome soul, a good strategist and brilliant cook but Dean could feel the tingle of Castiel's mark beneath his skin. He could feel Castiel in his heart and his bloodstream. 

"We need to find Jack," Castiel said as they jogged back to their motorbike. "Call Kelly please." 

Dean was already dialling as the motorcycle took off, his free arm wrapped tightly around Castiel's waist.


	25. The Changeling

* * *   
1 HOUR 

* * * 

No one bothered Dean as he walked through the doors of MAPS headquarters. They were on skeleton staff in clearance anyway, with anyone who had a basic patching certificate out doing damage remediation. 

Garth looked like he was going to say something consoling as Dean approached the security gate. Dean gave him a glare and he flinched, opening the door to the detention tank with a weak wave. 

Jody was leaning against the door with a cup of coffee and a bagful of donuts. Donna was suspended so Dean guessed Jody had to finish up her stash of powdered, jam filled, sugary heaven. 

“I just clocked off,” Jody shrugged, taking the key pass off her neck and tossing it at Dean. 

Dean pocketed the keys and endured more sympathetic looks from his colleagues as he made his way to the cell unhindered. 

Bobby was standing in the room just outside the locked isolation room. He checked his phone and sighed. 

“It’s holding up for now, but it’ll takes days to get it stable. There’s about 2 miles of perimeter under threat. Though turns out the marine activists bought up most of that land months ago and the Mer Embassy is right in the middle of it too. Funny that. If you look on a map, a breeze comes through and it goes down, we’ll get a direct opening between the beach and all the way to the swamps,” Bobby crossed arms. “You got any theories why your husband is mixed up in this?” 

When Dean stayed silent, Bobby huffed. “The politicians are baying for blood, Mayor Roman especially. He’s asked for my best Mer experts to conduct the ‘interrogation’. And apparently the best man I have for that job is you.” 

Dean made a face, his voice when he finally spoke was hoarse. “Yeah, I appreciate the irony.” 

“You got this?” Bobby looked skeptical. 

“Thought you had a press conference to give?” 

Bobby opened his mouth as if he wanted to say more but eventually he settled for bumping his fist on Dean’s arm and leaving. 

The pass in Dean’s hand gave him no holds barred access. The final door slid open and Dean could see Castiel sitting behind the glass cell wall. His eyes stormy as he looked up at Dean. 

“Some prince you turned out to be,” Dean said. 

He supposed it started with Jack. 

* * * 

24 HOURS 

* * * 

“Castiel! And Dean!” Kelly’s face lit up with delight. The restaurant was crowded enough that their arrival had not drawn too much attention. 

Jack beamed hugely, a party hat with Sakura print on it perched on his head. “You said he was too busy to come to my birthday dinner.” 

Dean looked at Castiel askance, Castiel inclined his head awkwardly. “We uh did not bring a gift.” 

“Your presence is a delightful surprise, for both of us, there’s no need for a present ...” Kelly’s smile was getting smaller as she took in Castiel urgent demeanour. Dean could see her intuition kicking in and hear the slight edge to her voice. “What great timing, we were just about to order.” 

The restaurant was Japanese and purportedly a great favourite for Jack. Dean distracted Jack by asking him to demonstrate the electronic ordering system while Castiel spoke to Kelly. The booth they were sitting in backed right up to a rotating sushi train. When Jack looked like he was going to pay more attention to the whispered conversation, Dean manfully grabbed the plate whizzing past them. 

“How do I eat this?” Dean asked, poking at a tentacle. “And what’s the orange stuff?” 

“Caviar, or salmon roe rather,” Jack said helpfully. “It’s salty and wet.” 

“Figures,” Dean grabbed the artfully stacked bundle of rice, octopus and fish eggs and popped it into his mouth. He chewed, paused, swallowed. “You want the other piece?” 

“Jack, we need to go,” Kelly interrupted. 

Jack was startled but he nodded at his mother amicably. 

“We’ll call and order the rest as take out,” Kelly said and rushed out, Castiel bringing up the rear. 

They tailed Kelly’s sedan all the way back to the embassy. 

“We’ve um been staying here,” Kelly said with some embarrassment. 

“We sold our house,” Jack said helpfully. “Mom bought a cabin on a mountain all the way up in Alaska. She said we can get goats.” 

“Alaska’s nice this time of year,” Castiel said, gazing meaningfully at Kelly. 

Kelly gave him a silent nod and said cheerfully to Jack “Why don’t we start packing now?” 

Jack looked at her, his face full of understanding. “Sure,” he said. “I got my bug-out bag ready.” 

Kelly deflated, her face crumpling into a teary smile. “You’re not gonna ask why we’re going now?” 

Jack shrugged. “I remember all the last minute zoo trips, impromptu diner runs three states over, random flights to strange places as you brought me up. I know we’re running from something. I know you love me and you’re the smartest person I know. So there must be a good reason. We can talk in the car mom, you go grab your bag.” 

The embassy intercom sounded. The electronic beep making everyone on edge. A guy in a cap appeared on the camera. 

“Take out order from Poseidon Paradise? For Jack Kline?” 

“No one ordered anything,” Dean said into the intercom. “Kelly?” 

“That’s strange,” the sound crackled. “It’s a birthday cake, matcha flavoured. All paid for up front and the lychee gelato is melting. So I better come in.” 

They watched the black and white image on the security camera as the delivery guy swiped at the intercom, ripping the whole thing off the wall. He kicked the glass in on the embassy’s doors and smirked at the camera as he ducked to enter. Kelly looked appalled, tensing herself up for a fight. She looked tiny and furious, her eyes wide and doe like. 

“Get behind me mom,” Jack stood in front of her as the door started rattling. 

Castiel pushed Dean aside and nimbly opened the door, a brutish shoulder burst through, then clawed hands were left scrabbling on the tiled floor as the Mer crashed to the ground. The creature had an opalescent white sheen running down his neck, where the scales were flared in intimidation. His tail was long and white, dragged lizard like behind a pair of hind feet. 

“Put that away, you don’t impress me!” Kelly shouted over Jack’s shoulder. 

The horned face turned to her, forked tongue scenting the air. 

“If you want to talk to us, get off the floor,” Kelly said disdainfully. 

Dean raised his eyebrows as the horns, scales, claws and tail disappeared one by one. In his terrestrial form, the guy was no taller than Dean, with ash blonde hair and cunning pale eyes. 

“I’ve never seen anything like him,” Jack murmured. “What is that? Who is that?” 

“Handsome aren’t I?” Said the intruder, winking as if he basked in the attention. “Our totem has water dragon in it, you’re a lizard Jack.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Twenty years and that’s the line you came up with to introduce yourself to your ...”

“He’s not your father, Jack. Not really,” Kelly huffed. “Castiel’s been more of a parent to you than he ever was. Hey Nick, is it snakes that fertilise a bunch of eggs then slither off? You told me you were a dragon, the only thing dragonish about you is your reptilean nature. I hear they eat their young.” 

Nick winced. “Ouch. So I missed a few birthdays. I really did bring cake. Uh, Dean, get some plates.” 

“You know my name?” Dean thought it was funny that this was the fact that was so astonishing to him. 

“Every sentient creature from the ocean knows your name, Dean Winchester is saved blah blah,” Nick poked his tongue out again. He had a terrible habit of pointing it at what interested him. Kelly shrunk back. “Oh the great prophecy, yawn.” 

“We are better off without you, Nick,” Kelly said. “Jack knows he has a biological father out there, that he is not in the picture and that being with him is something Jack would need to decide for himself when he is mature enough.” 

“18th birthday, son,” Nick said pointedly. “18 candles on this smashed up cake. And here I am with the world ready to bow at your feet.” 

Jack looked down at the crumpled cake box, his expression thoughtful. 

“Why don’t you sit down for some cake.” 

Dean could not believe this was happening. There they were sitting in the vacant embassy kitchen. Wedges of jade green cake and pink cherry blossom shaped icing piled on cheerful paper plates. Nick had even brought along some more of those party hats which he jauntily perched on his own and Jack’s head. There were some broken candles that Dean lit with a lighter. Then they sang a lacklustre rendition of happy birthday, with Nick stealing the show in a bizarre display of vocal theatrics. Dean scoffed cake while Castiel kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. They sat awkwardly in silence once the last cake crumbs were thoroughly cleaned up by Nick, forked tongue always at the ready. 

“Why would the world bow at my feet?” Jack asked placidly once they had finished eating. 

“I’m Lucifer Prince of the Dark Abyss,” Nick said boastfully. “My line has the most direct claim to the throne, I am as powerful as Michael and I do say alot prettier. You are my only heir. Though you may be a human hybrid, I am willing to elevate you to my lieutenant. I will you show the world as it truly is and not as your mother made it out to be.”

“A world to be cherished and not subjugated?” Jack said thoughtful. “So basically, I’m half Mer.” 

“Half very special Mer,” Nick said. “I’m talking poison mucus excreting scales and claws!” 

Kelly grunted, filling her mouth up with a gulp of tea. 

“I’ve never felt anything but human,” Jack pondered. “What if I didn’t inherit those genetics?” 

“Then you would be a runt and back in the Abyss we do away with those,” Nick cooed. “But just look at you, how handsome and tall and fresh faced. All you need is the right guidance and maybe a little encouragement and we’ll have you vomiting poison like a champ. To be honest if it wasn’t for your mother’s flighty nature, I would have tested you sooner to see if you would be worthy of my time but well time is no longer on our side. The change is upon us.” 

Dean looked around the room noting that no body was questioning exactly what this great change is. They all seemed to be in the know, all except Dean. 

“I’m here to rescue you son,” Nick gasped with excitement. 

“Jack and I have already made arrangements,” Kelly said. 

“Don’t turn me down again woman!” Nick hissed at her, tongue morphing and curling at her face. She swatted at it with her hand.

“I’m going with mom,” Jack said after a moment of consideration. “Thank you Nick for your time and effort in tracking me down. Once things are calm, we might meet again.”

“Thanks for my time and effort? Do you know what I went through to get your birthday present?” Nick choked down his bellow, pulling out a glowing vial. “This is nano serum. You might be a late bloomer but a dose of this will have you put on a growth spurt.” 

Castiel’s blade was at Nick’s throat in a flash. “Put that away, I had suspected but I thought even you were above that sort of experimentation.” 

“Spending a decade as Michael’s captive guest opens up your mind about the boundaries of what’s technologically possible,” Nick said. 

“Lucifer, you will not use that on Jack. If he is in fact more human than Mer, you know what it will do to him. You were there when Ketch died.” 

“Bingo,” Nick shook the little vial, its contents glowed. “So I’ve worked out it doesn’t work on humans, but Jack’s not just human. And who knows, maybe it was just a Ketch thing that the serum failed. I mean Michael never perfected this before I managed to steal it and runaway.”

“Over my dead body,” Kelly said. “No, over your dead body.” 

“Hey, if you truly loved Jack, you’d volunteer to try it,” Nick suggested slyly to Kelly. “You can see if your genetics are compatible with the nanos or if they will feast on your chromosomes.” 

Jack stood up. “Nick, thank you, but no.” 

Nick’s skin shuddered, breaking into scales, the sharp pieces flaring up along his arms. “Stop saying ‘no’ to me!” 

Jack bowed his head and stared fixedly at Nick. “I said go.”

Castiel pulled Dean and Kelly out of the way, whispering. “Look at Jack...” 

Jack’s eyes glowed gold and his hands clenched, gold glinted from his fingertips. Nick lunged first, fists out but Jack ducked and weaved past him instinctively. Nick was vicious but Jack was fast and light on his feet. His hand made contact with Nick’s face and five vivid lines of gold appeared over Nick’s cheek. Nick touched his face then stared at the gleaming ooze that came away on his hand. 

Jack’s back straightened and slits appeared on his neck. A gold shimmer rippled over his skin, racking down the back of neck, dripping over his arms. There were golden elk like horns emerging on his temples and a tail which definitely was dragon like dragged along the floor. Even Dean had to admit Jack’s morph was freaking cool. 

“That’s my boy!” Nick cheered just as Jack opened his mouth. 

The sound that came out was like a physical force. It slammed Nick backwards, blowing him right out of the kitchen. Castiel and Kelly struggled to shut the door behind Nick, while Dean clutched at his ears in agony. 

“He’s gone,” Castiel called out. “Put a claw in Dean’s mouth, now!” 

Dean flinched as Jack cringingly stuck his little finger in. There was an acrid taste at the tip of the claw which was quickly reverting back to a human nail. The ringing in his ear faded gradually. 

Castiel clapped Jack on the back. “That’s enough. He’ll be fine now. And Nick won’t be back anytime soon.” 

“Did I,” Jack stuttered, helping his mother sit down on a chair. “Did I turn into .. something cool?” 

“The coolest,” Castiel said with a croak in his voice. “You were a dragon, not just a water lizard. That’s the coolest morph I’ve ever seen. I mean angelfish are cool too but you’re truly wonderful.” 

Jack beamed then turned to Kelly concerned. She was sitting there with her mouth open, huge tears sliding down her face. 

“Are you upset I’m not fully human?” Jack asked softly. 

“I am so proud of you!” Kelly gasped in between sobs. “Jack, so proud.” 

Dean picked up the vial of serum Nick had left behind. 

“Bag this for a murder weapon?” 

Castiel nodded. “You were right Dean, Ketch and Uriel were not killed by the same perpetrator.” 

“So who killed Uriel?” Dean asked. 

“He doomed himself,” Castiel said. “Meg said something about a consignment going wrong. I think I know what happened. Dean, we need to head to the wall.” 

“Castiel, do you remember what day it is?” Kelly placed a refraining hand on his arm. 

“Of course,” Castiel said, his face grim. 

“So the wall is not the best place to be,” Kelly said, her eyes gliding over to Dean. “You still haven’t told him?” 

“Dean doesn’t know about the explosions last night?” Jack interrupted. “Where’ve you been?” 

“In the exclusion zone, with Cas,” Dean said. “Cas, you didn’t say anything.” 

“Does he need to? It’s been all over the news,” Jack said. “Huh, funny you haven’t heard it.” 

“I haven’t eaten or slept probably for days,” Dean said. “It’s been a little busy. Murderers on the loose and all.” 

Castiel’s eyes dipped to the ground then flicked back up again. “You’re right Dean, you need to go home and rest. I can go look at the wall.” 

“No, we’re partners,” Dean protested. “You might have Mer stamina but I have coffee.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Heaven help us.”


	26. The Exchange

* * *   
22 Hours   
* * *   
"There's nothing to see here," Castiel said, pointing Dean in the other direction. 

Dean stared into the darkness. There was a spot in the shadow of the crumbling wall where Dean thought he could see someone moving. They were miles away and Dean had to squint but that gut feeling of knowing rather than seeing which Dean had gotten used to on the island was back. The ground felt like it was shivering. The night was too balmy and too calm. There was no wind from the harbour. Too much sweet blossom on the warm evening breeze. The moon hung super low and bright, like it might fall out of the sky and splash all over the pavements. Castiel was turned away, his face towards the street lamp, checking his cellphone.  Dean looked around him, he had been so wrapped up in whatever it was that was happening between him and Castiel that he had not really kept up with what was going on in the world. Now he noticed Dick Roman's election posters hung limp and peeling from the rotting concrete barricade. The banners promising an upgrade to coastal boarders drooped in the becalmed night. 

"These explosions, they might not just be from Mer," Dean wondered out loud. "This could be our own people. People who want the Mer here, or just people who hate dicks." 

"Come on," Castiel's hand was on Dean's shoulder. "Whoever did this is long gone. This site was targeted hours ago." 

For once, Dean didn't feel compelled to follow Castiel. His nose picked up on something lingering in the air, like baby powder and microwave popcorn mixed in with machine oil. Underneath those smells was a sort of warm familiar scent. Dean took one step then another, then he was running full pelt and a figure peeled off the wall in the distance and so began the chase. 

The runner was wearing a beige trenchcoat. The same generic one that all the staff around the wall wore. The very same type as the one Dean had given to Castiel when they first met. Dean knew that if he lost his target for a split second and they could cast the coat off or mingle into a crowd where other people wore the same thing it would be difficult to spot them again. The smell was gone, Dean was too busy gasping air into his lungs to keep his legs pumping. He couldn't spare a second to glance behind him to see if Castiel was bringing up the rear. He was surprised that Castiel hadn't overshot him, given that he was a very strong runner. 

Dean kept the air cycling through his chest and put his head down, getting a burst of speed that impressed even himself. Then he was within arm's reach, close enough to touch the flapping sash belt. A figure lunged at him from a side alley, but Dean ducked just in time to avoid collision. There was a flash of khaki and Dean realised that the attacker wore the same jacket as the runner. 

"You go around and cut him off!" Castiel shouted behind Dean. "I'll get the other one." 

Dean followed the order instinctively, taking a left turn and momentarily losing the first figure from his sights. He trusted Castiel and was confident that the Mer would be able to hold his own against anybody. Dean looped around and ran down the alley, towards the figure huddled on the ground. He leapt, grabbed the guy by the trenchcoat and rolled him into the concrete, hearing a soft familiar gasp.

"Hey, it's just me," Castiel grunted. He was still on the ground, clutching at his ankle. "Think I rolled it." 

"What," Dean frowned. "Where did they go?" 

"He got away," Castiel said, his voice low. "I'm sorry, I let him get past me." 

"The other one too?" 

"Yes." Castiel sounded a little ashamed.

"Are you hurt?" Dean knelt down, hurriedly inspecting Castiel's leg. Relieved when he found no signs of injury except a little awkward favouring of one ankle. 

"No," Castiel said, clambering to his feet, dusting at his jacket. "I'm okay." 

"I think that was our bomber," Dean said with some frustration. "I almost had him. Them. There was more than one, they were tag teaming us." 

"So you you thought if we went for a walk around a crime scene, we might bump into the bomber just waiting to be caught?" 

Dean shrugged. "Police work is mostly good instincts and luck right?" 

Castiel regarded Dean. "What do your instincts say right now?" 

"Something is going on," Dean said. "Don't know what, but it's happening." 

Castiel looked at Dean, his eyes soft. "When was the last time you ate and slept? Are you starting to feel feverish like on the island?" 

Dean shook his head. "I don't feel like that. You keep telling me you're not the siren, but I know I felt the effects of siren venom on the island and you did too. Something was up with you, Cas." 

Castiel and Dean stared at each other in silence. After a prolonged few minutes, Castiel cleared his throat. "You're not asking me any further questions, Dean." 

"You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If it was something I need to know?" Dean said easily. "You're right Cas, too much work and no rest doesn't make me a good investigator. I can't believe I just took off and let you get injured. You could have ... anything could have happened to you." 

Castiel looked down and straightened a little. "I feel okay now." 

"Far as I'm concerned our shift was over hours ago, what you wanna do Cas?" Dean asked. "We're on personal time now. Can I take you out, or do you want to stay in?" 

"Are you asking me what I want for dinner?" 

"I'm asking you out on a date." 

Castiel's smile lit up the dark alleyway. "Actually Dean, I have a date planned for you." 

* * *   
20 hours  
* * *   
Dean sighed, taking his hands off the wheel. The night grew darker as they floated across the water. The stars were more visible without the city lights. The ferry was empty, operating on automatic to freight goods across the harbour to the other side of the city. Before the curfew, people with the right paperwork could use the ferry as private citizens. Usually for transporting cars or bulky goods. Now Dean and Castiel were alone, in the impala, surrounded by shipping containers going back and forth from shore to shore. It was the most romantic setting Dean had ever experienced. They even grabbed pizza before driving onto the cargo ferry. 

"Guy could get used to this," Dean said, looking over at Castiel in the passenger seat. "This was a great idea, Cas." 

Castiel was staring out of the window towards the horizon, his brow furrowed. "It's very still out there." 

"I like the quiet, never used to but with you I do," Dean said shyly. 

Castiel looked over at him, his mouth parting as he licked his lips. "Dean, I have not been truthful with you." 

Dean shrugged and nodded. "Uh-huh." 

"I've hidden things from you, thing you really should know," Castiel said. "I am awash with doubt." 

Dean stared at the moonlight glowing in Castiel's eyes. "Yeah, okay." 

"There was a siren, supposedly the last one, she was captured by Michael many decades ago but she escaped. A secret society known as the Men of Letters, occult enthusiasts, found her and kept her hidden. This is the story of your mother." 

Dean's eyebrows shot up. 

"Mary Campbell was the alias given to her. Her protector was Henry Winchester. She fell in love with Henry's son, John Winchester. They had a child." 

"More than one," Dean huffed. 

"Just one," Castiel held Dean's gaze. "A human. Her other child was a legacy from her time as Michael's captive. He experimented on her, wanted to create some sort of super-Mer." 

"So ..." Dean's wide eyed shock transformed into awe. "Sam is Aquaman?" 

Castiel blinked. "Sam?" 

"Yeah, my brother the marine biologist." 

Castiel spoke slowly, gently. "Dean, you're the oldest, aren't you?" 

"I'm no merman," Dean huffed dismissively. "I can't even swim. Let alone be a siren. They're seductive, charismatic, irresistibly beautiful. Like you." 

"Cultural conjecture," Castiel said with a choked laugh. "But thank you. The siren and I have a long history, but I am not him." 

"I grew up in Lawrence Texas, my mom moved around a fair bit after my dad went missing but I sure as hell don't remember being a fish out at sea." Dean swiped the air with a hand to emphasise his point.

"You wouldn't remember, you can't let yourself," Castiel grabbed Dean's fingers, easing them out of the clawed shape they were making. Castiel's palm was warm, the pads of his fingers smoothing down Dean's curled digits, soothing with their touch. "Michael took John as bait for Mary. She resisted, took you and Sam all around the country evading him. She was paired with John, the way you and I are, the separation was killing her and him. So she tried to cut a deal with Michael. She'll go back to him if he'll let John and the younglings go. Michael said yes. So she left you and Sam with Bobby Singer and gave herself up. Michael kept her and John captive. He had decided that she was past her prime for breeding anyway. He wanted his own purebred line. His ideal offspring, half siren and half him. He wanted you." 

Dean's nails dug into Castiel's hand of their own volition. Dean looked down horrified by the sight of the pinpointed claws but Castiel held onto them, delicately winding his hand over the back of Dean's, placing the claws point up on his thigh. 

"I'm not..." Dean began to whisper. 

"That's what you said when he got you. Kept you tanked for days. You would hold your breath till you almost drowned. You refused to use your gills. You tried to stay human, stay true to your real family, not by blood but by love." 

Dean could see that Castiel's eyes were bright and brimming. 

"My father is Chuck Shurley. We lived on a research boat. Michael tracked him down because Chuck knew all these things about the Mer that no one else did. Chuck was forced to imprison you, induce shift in you. After weeks you tailed out but you were in a dormant state. No food, no voice, barely any signs of life. I was asked to visit you. A human youth of an age close to you, I was supposed to entice you to feed. I spent most of my evenings watching you drift lifelessly in your tank. You didn't die but maybe it would have been kinder if you did." 

Dean listened to Castiel's story as if a farfetched tale that had nothing to do with him. He could imagine Castiel's eyes more innocent, wider than they are now, shining behind a mop of dark wayward hair. It didn't feel like a memory. More like a dream. Like the face he saw in his nightmares, the one that he thought was his. The hand pressed against the glass, the same size and shape as his clawed one. 

"Chuck is a geneticist. Or at least that's the title he's going with these days. I think he might be more than Michael ever understood him for. He has these ideas that just pop into his head and suddenly he's making things and creating devices. The sort of tech Chuck can make is as good as, if not better, than the Creator's relics. The ones Michael and Naomi fight over in the deep sea levels and Lucifer drools for in the Abyss. I call him father but I think he's more my maker."

"You're human?" 

"And you are Mer." 

Castiel smiled at Dean, his brows raised as if to say ‘what of it’. Despite the incredibleness of Castiel’s revelations, Dean felt strangely okay with the information. It felt as if he’d been waiting to hear it for months, maybe now those drowning dreams would stop. Dean looked at Castiel, his blue eyes solemn and staring. Castiel understood Dean for who he was, not just what he was, whatever that was. If Castiel says Dean is Mer, if Dean could believe that, they were still okay, a human and a Mer, just not in the order Dean had thought. Long as Castiel still looked at him like this, like he was the moon and the stars, he was fine with it. Then it occurred to Dean that something else was strange about what Castiel was saying. 

Dean blinked. "Chuck made a human? You think he made you?” 

"You know, I don't think I'm the only one he's made," Castiel said with a nervous laugh. "The creation myth of Mer is a contentious one. Do you really want to get into a theological debate? Aren't you interested in the great revelation that you're the siren?" 

"I would be if I could believe you," Dean said without any malice, holding Castiel's hand in a reassuring squeeze. "Sounds kind of unbelievable to me." 

"You have a mental block. It was something you did to your own head for your survival. You were right, your refusal to be Mer was your saving grace. It frustrated Michael's ambitions to no end. You lost your tail, your claws, your fins, your voice. You gave up everything to stay human. So I came up with an idea of my own." 

Dean frowned at Castiel, his lips moving hesitatingly. 

"I did a Mary," Castiel smirked. "A sort of deal but not really. All I needed was Chuck's genius and Michael's arrogance. Chuck made me something the would make me appear Mer. So I could take your place in the tank and you could live a human life ashore." 

Dean's mouth was agape. "Cas?" 

"Michael was overjoyed that his siren had finally awoken. All the data Chuck gave him were falsified. I was installed as Michael's heir apparent. The siren prince. It was not until decades later that Michael realised what I was. Not Mer and not a siren, mostly human but not quite that either. I was outed as a hybrid. The friends I had, like Gabriel and Balthazar, swore allegiance to help me. They made blades like mine to signify their fialty. There were other Mer who thought this was just some sort of complication between Michael and I. A tussle for power. They still thought I was a siren and they revered me for it. Then there were others, like Gadreel and Hannah, who found me and spoke to me and over the years we began to fight for common goals. They are true believers, they convinced me to come ashore at the prophecised time and place where the last siren is said to emerge. The one who will help us overcome the change. I thought it was a fairytale, a bed time story for the gullible. I was just there to appease my allies when I stepped foot on the shoreline and the gate opened and there was you."

Dean thought Castiel was shaking but when he looked down at their joined hands, he realised it was his that was trembling. 

'The young mer I had swapped my life for right there in one piece, talking and walking and magnificently alive," Castiel surged forward. "You're a miracle Dean." 

Dean would have shook his head or voiced some denial but Castiel held his cheek in his open palm and was peering at him with wonder. 

"I was lost when I found you," Castiel said. "I tried to get on with the job. I had work to do. But I could not leave you alone again. You had your human family, what's left of it, but the loneliness poured off you like a perpetual mist over a harbour. There was so much danger lurking beneath. I went to your apartment, you promptly scented and claimed me as mate. You penetrated my gills with your tongue, excreting serum right into my flesh. You even tailed but as the transformation overcame you you passed out. That stubborn brain of yours defaulted back to survival mode."

"I remember fainting," Dean bit his lips. "I thought it was because you were so hot..."

"I made sure you were in the mating trials because I thought you might recover your memory during the swim race. That you would tail out again and claim me as mate but you did not. As you carried on oblivious, I burned for you," Castiel's lips twitched, surpressing a grin. "As I am a hybrid I did not react to the venom immediately. I still had my freewill but the more I resisted you on the island the more your essence became a toxin to me, I fell ill. But I didn't want to be with you unless you knew the truth, until you could face the truth." 

"Chuck fixed us," Dean said. "When he came and got us off the island with Sam. Sam said I had been asleep for days." 

"He undid the bindings of the siren nanos upon us, after I asked him to." Castiel admitted. "I wanted a clear head and I didn't want you to regret copulating with me once you knew the whole truth." 

"It's not magic is it?" Dean said ponderously. "It's technology. You mentioned nanos before and that's what Nick used to experiment on Ketch." 

"Nano scale technology that works on the molecular level, changes our cell structure in adherence to their programming, turns skin into scales, limbs into tails." 

"Fucking science fiction," Dean muttered darkly. "I'm living in a fucking dystopian sci-fi." 

"It's a lot to take in," Castiel said understandingly. 

"So help me out, Cas," Dean gasped for breath as Castiel wiped his thumb across Dean's cheekbone longingly. "Make it all okay." 

"I can't do that, Dean," Castiel said. "I can't stop what's coming." 

"Then make now count," Dean's eyelids fluttered as Castiel leaned in. "You said something about copulation?" 

"I would only consider it after you knew." 

"Yeah, I know," Dean's voice rumbled deep in his chest. "So come 'ere Cas." 

"Your move," Castiel said hoarsely. There was merely a breath between their lips, their lashes were almost tangled. 

"For fuck's sake!" Dean gasped and closed the space between them.


	27. The Question

Dean didn't feel different, at first. Castiel laid back against the door, his elbows perched and legs loose. Castiel kissed Dean back with the same fiery urgency at first but then he placed his hand on Dean's neck and slowly licked Dean's mouth. The sounds Castiel made were soft and cooing, like he was stilling a wild creature. Dean burrowed his hands into Castiel's trenchcoat, caressing the warm silky lining, unbuttoning and unzipping with more control and finesse than he thought himself capable of. Castiel's body was hard, firm flesh and heated skin beneath folds and folds of fabric. Dean zoned out on the soft cotton and slippery synthetics for a moment. Castiel was all come hither stretches and lowered lashes, inviting and devastating at once. He took Dean's hand and guided it where he wanted it, encouraging as Dean fumbled with silky skin and velvety weight. 

"What if I shift?" Dean asked. 

"We'll deal with it if you do," Castiel answered, panting, shoving Dean's hand down his pants recklessly. 

"Don't wanna pass out on you," Dean added. 

"I can have that effect sometimes," Castiel boasted. "It's only natural." 

"Shut up, Cas," Dean nipped at Castiel's ear. "I'm not kidding. I haven't, haven't done it like a fish before." 

Castiel's gills opened as his body shuddered. 

"Quit laughing." 

"Dean, just go with the flow okay."

"Did you just ..." 

"I'm sure you are more than capable of copulation in the Impala," Castiel sat up, his cheeks pink. "Not to rush you but we're kind of on a schedule." 

Dean pouted. "Maybe I was just savouring the moment ..." 

"Maybe you need me to drag you to the backseat and pound you."

"So help me Cas if that was another wave pun," Dean blushed, his eyes darting to the tail end of the car wistfully. 

Castiel popped open the door and for a split second Dean thought maybe he was leaving. Then the driver's side door shot open and true to his word, Castiel was pulling him out by the collar. They tussled for a moment, the air outside was cold and Castiel growled at Dean while Dean's hand slipped on the back door handle, scrabbling in his urgency. He prayed he wasn't clawed out or anything, not wanting to scratch up the car. It was too dark to tell and frankly Dean wasn't really aware of anything except the persistent and steady shoving Castiel was doing behind him. With a grunt the door popped open and they fell in. Castiel had Dean pinned flat on his back. His fingertips pushing firmly into Dean's throat. 

"Just you and me Dean," Castiel's nail was blunt where it flicked over Dean's pulse point. "Show me what you got." 

Dean gasped, his chest puffing up, his legs stiffening. "Am I gilling out?" 

"No," Castiel said, his eyes dark. "Not yet." 

Dean grabbed onto Castiel, a hand over a shoulder blade, another on the upper back thigh. The hold felt desperate and feeble even to Dean. Castiel pressed down, intoxicatingly heavy, making Dean groan at the weight of him. 

"Claws?" Dean asked. 

"Uh-uh," Castiel tilted his head. 

"Maybe if you ..." 

Castiel cut Dean off with a push of his hips. "I know what I'm doing Dean." 

"I'll just relax then," Dean murmured. 

Castiel twisted his hand between them, a small flick of his wrist had Dean give out a shuddering moan, his eyes suddenly wide. 

"The excretion is normal, copious though it might seem," Castiel said calmly, his forearm flexing. 

"Holy fuck!" Dean's eyes felt like they might roll out of his head. 

"Pardon me, I'm not entirely familiar with these organs pre-morph," Castiel gave a wicked little grin. "So I'm just playing around a little." 

Dean whimpered, beyond words. He thought about the upholstery on his baby and gritted his teeth as he ruined the leather interiors some more.

"Pretty complicated back there," Castiel whispered into Dean's ear, leaning down low. "Should we try all the orifices and see what sticks?" 

Dean opened his mouth but to his surprise the barrage of begging didn't emerge. What came out was a hiss and the clamp of his jaws into Castiel's bicep. Castiel went a little cross eyed for a second, he wobbled slightly on top of Dean, but then he drew a deep breath and dug in deeper. Dean could feel himself dribbling all over the bite site. 

"It's a mating bite," Castiel said gently. "It doesn't hurt." 

Dean laved at the wound, tasting salty skin and sweet ooze. 

"Still not tailing for me huh," Castiel looked down between them. "Maybe if I push you when we are joined up..." 

The rest of it was a blur for Dean. He remembered Castiel's incisors on his bicep, over the hand print. He remembered the way Castiel's face looked as he set his molars against Dean's muscles. He remembered the size and force of Castiel. The weight and the penetration. Then the sky was turning white. The sliding in and slipping over, the puddling and pooling of clear and translucent fluids. The frown between Castiel's brows easing as he exhaled. The peace as the world tumulted. 

* * *

13 hours

* * * 

Castiel looked exhausted. Dean would have felt sorry for him if not for the smug smile splayed across his face. Castiel’s eyes were Mediterranean blue as he basked in the morning sunlight, fingers idly tickling over Dean’s damp scalp. 

“Really thought I could get you to tail out that last time,” Castiel pouted. “But I had fun trying.” 

Dean groaned, burying his head into Castiel’s chest. 

“Maybe if we did it submerged in sea water,” Castiel pondered. “Worth a try.” 

“Cas, you’re insatiable.” 

“I thought you had Mer stamina.” 

“I’m not immortal,” Dean sighed. “You’ll be the death of me Cas.” 

“Not if I can help it,” Castiel said firmly, staring down at Dean. “I’ll never give you up, I’ll never let you down Dean.” 

Dean punched Castiel in the shoulder when he started humming. 

“Whatever, you’re stuck with me, come hell or high water,” Dean said. “Just so you know.” 

Castiel’s smile stilled. “Funny you say that ...” 

* * * 

Dean and Castiel walked into the MAPS headquarters, deeply embroiled in an argument. 

“You made me leave the car!” Dean yelled. “And swim through the harbour. I’ll have to burn those clothes.” 

“I swam, you floated, hanging on to my neck,” Castiel said snidely. 

“Yeah well I’m still learning the strokes,” Dean mumbled. “Mer can do whatever they want with their arms when they swim because they have tails. I have to coordinate two arms and two legs and somehow not sink.” 

“Not my fault you can’t get your tail up,” Castiel hissed into Dean’s ear. “Hey you want to try again when we finish our shift?” 

Dean shoved at Castiel, earning a deep throated chuckle. 

Donna came out of her office, Jody eating a piece of cake beside her. 

“You guys seem happy,” Donna said. “Lucky break with the explosives investigation?” 

“We got nothing on that,” Dean shrugged. “Cas is just mucking around.” 

“Oh, you’ve had sex then,” Donna gave Castiel a nod. “Good was it?” 

“That is not how you have a conversation,” Dean said red faced. 

“What kind of sex did you have, human or Mer?” Donna raised her eyebrows. “Both? Wait should I log this in my notes?” 

“He didn’t tail,” Castiel said quietly. “But I’m a patient man.” 

Dean whirled on Castiel then spun around to glare at Donna. 

“Oh hey, I was there for medical assistance when you uh blacked out when Castiel was in your apartment?” Donna reminded Dean. “I’m cool.” 

Dean squinted. “You’ve ... uh... seen me morphed?” 

“Yep,” Donna nodded quickly. “Pretty tail you got there.” 

Dean swallowed. 

“You want some cake?” Jody proffered her plate. “It’s Bobby’s birthday, whole precinct is celebrating.” 

“Jody in on this too?” Dean asked. 

“I told her on our second date,” Donna said. “I’ve been here undercover to keep an eye on your medical condition. Can’t have any secrets in a new relationship, you know.”

Dean gave Castiel a long look. “Yeah, some people do think that.” 

Castiel just smiled back angelically. Dean shook his head, sexy bastard. 

“You’re lucky I like a little mystery,” Dean said, grabbing the plate off Jody. “Anyone else know before I did?” 

“Charlie, Kevin, Sam of course, Bobby has known for years, uh Garth and Ash don’t know though,” Castiel counted on his hands. “Uh pretty sure Andrea has told Benny. Most Mer know it too by the way.” 

Dean ate more cake in response. 

“We’ve got work to do, Dean,” Castiel looked at the clock. 

“Right,” Dean checked his thigh holster. “Wall or exclusion zone?” 

“Filing,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “We have paperwork to file and reports to write up on Ketch.” 

Dean cocked his head. “But I want to go out, I wanna go on patrol.”

“Not tonight Dean,” Castiel said. “Save your energy.” 

* * * 

10 Hours 

* * * 

Dean was grinning widely when he came off the phone. 

“Pizza and beer night,” Dean said to Castiel. “Sam’s on his way.” 

Castiel clutched the paper file he was holding. “Sam’s on a field trip, he’s halfway to the equator now.” 

“Nope, he cancelled,” Dean scrolled on his cell, checking out he pizza deals. “Eileen’s sick.” 

“Eileen?” 

“Leahy,” Dean said, tapping away at his screen. “You know Sam’s girlfriend. Think we can grab some beers on the way back home?” 

Castiel frowned. “I was not aware that Sam is committed.” 

“Yeah, they started going out a while back, Sam’s pretty private so not that many people know,” Dean beamed. “It’s gonna be great, my brother and my partner, pizza, beers.” 

Castiel was turned away, walking down the corridor, his cell against his ear. Dean could hear him growling into the phone “I need to speak to her now, Meg.” 

Dean could pry or he could google a voucher for the pizzas. He chose the latter. 

The shift passed with little to do, Dean was bored and googling leather cleaners on his phone. Castiel seemed immersed in his own thoughts. The clock ticked midnight and Bobby didn’t show up for his usual mid shift inspection. Dean and Castiel had been out in the Mer zone for the last few shifts so it wasn’t unusual to not have seen Bobby for a while. Though Bobby not coming around to the wall to check up on things was completely unheard of. Jody confirmed that Bobby hadn’t called in sick. 

“What do you mean maybe he took some leave?” Dean asked Garth who looked confused by the question. “This is Bobby, he never goes on vacation. Vacation for him is agitating the politicians and kicking Dick Roman’s ass on policy!” 

Garth looked a little frightened by Dean’s agitation. “Maybe he met someone?” 

“Who? Show me his last security swipe?” Dean yelled at as many colleagues as it took for them to produce the data. 

The camera footage showed Bobby leaving the wall and getting into the staff garage. Dean froze the frame and pointed at the figure in the background. 

“Who’s that?” 

“I don’t know. One of us, he’s in our uniform coat,” Garth guessed. Jody was looking intently at the picture, her eyes scrutinising. 

“That’s figure that I almost caught at the explosion site,” Dean tapped the screen. “The same guy, I recognise him by the back profile, small dude, light on his feet and fast.” 

“Play the rest of it,” Jody said solemnly. 

The whole of MAPS gathered around the screen and watched as the figure tapped Bobby on the back of the head and pulled him into the back of a waiting car. 

* * * 

8 Hours 

* * * 

“You’re not going to find him here,” Castiel said exasperated. “You think those guys will show up here exactly where you are looking for them at some random location?” 

Dean looked at Castiel defiant. “This isn’t a random location Cas.” 

Castiel stared at Dean, his eyes steadfast. 

“See when we were filing the paperwork, I was thinking about this. About that graffiti mark with the angelfish at the first bombing site. It’s funny isn’t it that none of the explosions ever injured anyone. How is that possible without a lot of care and planning going into it? So I looked at where the explosives were set off along the wall and I got Sam to do some calculating, don’t forget he’s an engineering major on top of the bio science. These hot spots where the vandalism occurred are structurally critical to the wall. They are weakening our only defence against the open ocean. And those development zones that Charlie’s NGO has been buying up, supposedly for future marine conservation, well they all line up neatly at the foot of the wall. Nothing’s been built there, all residents have been vacated. There’s also a corridor of empty land between here and the exclusion zone. So you tell me what’s going on Cas.” 

“This is the only place left, this part of the wall needs to be cracked if the whole things is to tumble,” Castiel said slowly. 

“And you know that because you planned it all along,” Dean nodded. “Why?” 

“Why do you think?” 

“If you asked me before we met, I’d say it’s an invasion,” Dean looked at Castiel sincerely. “But I know you now Cas.” 

“Don’t you doubt my intentions even a little?” Castiel asked. 

“No,” Dean said. “I know you’re good. I’m more sure of that than anything else.” 

Castiel looked down at the ground then up again. 

“You said ‘hell or high water’,” Castiel smiled bleakly. “Well it is both. Both are coming. Mer lore call it the change. A great flood that will supposedly wipe out the human race and reinstall the Mer to their rightful place in nature.” 

Castiel’s laugh was dry and sad. “At least that’s what Naomi and Michael wants the folk to think. I don’t interpret the lore that way. Kevin’s been studying the original wording of the prophecy and he says it doesn’t mean that at all. The change is just a wave, not a flood and it does not have to wipe out anybody. And that’s the platform I’ve been campaigning on. That’s what the angelfish means. And that’s what my friends want.” 

Dean stared at the shadows as two trench coat wearing figures emerged. They stood in the light of the street lamp, lowering their upturned collars. Dean could see the first was a woman with a beautiful face and auburn hair. Of course Dean recognised her, she was world famous, Anna the first mermaid to ever appear before humans. Anna had a device in her hand which Dean figured was the explosives. It was the second figure who had Dean frozen in awe though. 

“Mom?” 

Mary walked forward, her golden locks falling softly around her face. She was smiling broadly. 

“Hey kiddo,” she said and clasped Dean in a tight embrace. 

* * * 

7 Hours 

* * * 

“Come to wish me a happy birthday?” Bobby said, standing in the honeymoon suite. 

Dean raised his eyebrows at the lavish surrounds, the grand apartment extended out to a huge balcony with an in ground pool and a hot tub. 

“It’s happening sooner than you think,” Mary said to Castiel. “You don’t have a day, only a matter of hours. I felt the vibrations last night.” 

Dean was still goggling at Bobby at the bar, his mother sitting in a sofa, Anna perched on the armrest. 

“Where’s dad?” Dean croaked out. 

“That’s not good news,” Castiel said. “Sam is on his way, Dean you have to tell him to come here instead of going to your apartment.” 

“John Winchester?” Dean repeated. “You know the guy you love, the one you’re bonded to forever or something?” 

“Sirens can sense lithospheric activity instinctively,” Mary said to Castiel. “Another reason why we were so useful in the olden days. Entire herds survived if they had a siren amongst them in the early terraforming phase.” 

“Mom!” Dean shouted. 

“Your father is safe and well,” Mary addressed Dean. “I know this is a lot to take in Dean. I have to talk to Castiel right now and then we can catch up on family business.” 

“Did you feel the earth move last night, Dean?” Castiel asked, then he froze and had the good grace to blush. 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Yes.” 

Castiel began frantically typing on his phone. “There was seismic activity detected last night but no earthquakes in inhabited zones. The originating location is north.” 

“Michael,” Mary sighed. “He did what he promised he would do. He said that if I ever left him, he would end the world.” 

Dean swore. “What a dick.” 

“Your father and I decided we should spend some time apart,” Mary said to Dean. “I don’t have much time to explain it to you, we loved each other but after decades in captivity together, we needed to split up, find ourselves.” 

“And you found yourself in the honeymoon suite with Bobby?” Dean said incredulous. 

“And Anna,” Mary raised an eloquent eyebrow. 

Dean pulled a face. 

“It’s for the helipad access,” Bobby groaned. “This building has a helicopter pad and Mary and Anna are here to evacuate a bunch of us. Jody, Donna, Garth, whoever we can fit. So I called a last minute birthday party.” 

“But mom kidnapped you,” Dean protested. 

“That was for the cameras, Roman can’t know I’m on their side,” Bobby said. “Have been all along. Convinced the government to set up the Mer camp in that swamp. Made sure the wall looked repaired.” 

“What do you mean ‘looked’ repaired?” Dean asked. 

“The whole thing’ll go down in a gust of strong wind,” Bobby said. “Now Sam not going off with Ruby is a complication I didn’t foresee.” 

“I may have led Ruby to overestimate her charms,” Castiel said apologetically. “I thought she had convinced Sam to go on that field study. Seems he chose to stay with Eileen because she had a cold. Now he’s on his way to Dean’s apartment.” 

“Well he can’t go there, the place is right in the firing line of the first wave,” Bobby cursed. “Who’s his buddy? Is Ruby coming here?” 

“No, she’s gone to Eileen’s. Going to make sure she’s okay,” Castiel sighed. “Sam doesn’t have anyone coming for him.” 

Bobby glared at Castiel, then at Dean. 

“The way I see it, two tails, one tall ass human, the maths works.” 

“Dean’s still not shifting,” Castiel cleared his throat. “I tried very hard.” 

“Spare me the details,” Bobby waved his hand. “So idjits, big wave coming, Sam’s out on his own. What are you gonna do?” 

“We have another problem,” Castiel looked up from his phone. “Dick is on the move, he’s demanded a show of strength at the wall, a news conference to tell everyone that the explosions have had no impact on the structure. Everyone’s going to be there, right when the wave hits.” 

“Then we have to move,” Mary said decisively. “Bobby, call the mayor and tell him MAPS has caught the vigilantes.” 

Dean looked at Castiel in confusion. 

“So Dean, the question is ...” Castiel gave Dean a sly grin and raised his hands, wrists together. “Would you like to handcuff me?”


	28. The Answer

* * *   
6 Hours  
* * * 

It had seemed like a good plan. With Dick commandeering the wall headquarters for his press conference, Castiel needed a way in to get as many people away from the strike site as he could. Bobby led the way into the building, using his security clearance. Anna and Mary brought up the rear, still dressed in the MAPS trenchcoats. Dean was in the centre with Castiel in handcuffs. It should have worked, if Star Wars was anything to go by, but of course Dean's life wasn't Star Wars. 

It was Garth who came to open the gates for Dean and Ash who took Castiel into custody. Bobby got in okay with Mary and Anna, but Dick's people were already there and they were ushered into a locked down area to face Dick. Dean was still hanging on to Castiel's bound hands when Ash gave him a weird look and yanked Castiel away none too gently. He shoved Castiel down a corridor, handing him over to Jo to lock up then whirled on Dean. 

"Tell me you haven't gone the way of Benny," Ash said, a tonne of disgust in his tone. "You know he sent the office an email. Two of his babies have fins on the top of their heads, only one can pass for human. What kind of crappy thing is that to do to your kids?" 

Dean locked his jaw, unable to reply. 

"And it's probably a good thing Castiel's been found out to be a terrorist," Ash kept talking. "You were almost married to the guy. Open your eyes Dean, he's not even human. He might look it, walking around, but we all know he's feral underneath the nice face and pretty words." 

Dean grunted and just held himself back from doing something stupid. 

"Ash, stop," Garth was saying. "His boyfriend just got taken in." 

Ash stomped his foot. "I'm only telling you for your own good, Dean. These so called friends, your own brother, they don't tell you how wrong it is. I've worked the wall and the swamps for years. They dont' build, they don't contribute, they drain our resources and they swarm all over our country, like the whole wide ocean ain't big enough for them or something. I've seen them suffer, dry out, get tank fever, it's been like a decade since I last saw a Mer kid, apart from Benny's abominations. If they come here, they come out of jealousy, they want what we have, but they can't have it, because we were here first." 

The other staff were stopping and watching the confrontation now. Asa Fox has been brought in that night to run extra security for the press conference. He came over and put himself between Dean and Ash. 

"Guys, we're all on the same team here," Asa said placatingly. "Ash, we talked about this. Dean's got his heart set on this guy, so you have to let it go." 

"You were my mentor when I joined MAPS, you don't remember do you Dean?" Ash said, his face going blotchy. "I looked up to you, Dean. We used to go for drinks at The Port. I'd be bone tired after my shift but I'd come just cause I knew you'd be there. You were different to everyone else, you listened and you cared. Nothing snooty about you. You were like a man's man. Everything I admired, a real home grown guy and look at you now."

Dean clenched his fist and said through gritted teeth. "He's not my boyfriend, he is my betrothed and we are bonded. And if you used to think I'm a great guy, what do you think of me now?" 

Ash was about to open his mouth and argue some more but Dean was puffed up and his neck was visibly bulging. Ash let out a cry of anguish when the gills slitted open on Dean's neck. 

"He's infected you or something, you've caught the fish plague," Ash stumbled backwards. "You're a monster!" 

Dean drew in deep gasps of air, his gills shuddering with the effort to control himself. "Not me," Dean gave Ash a long look. "What happened to you man? You buying Dick's bullshit? You can't see past the fins to see its just people underneath the scales?" 

Ash shook his head repeatedly, he drew the taser from his holster. "Tank him. He's one of them." 

Asa reached out a hand towards Ash. "No, buddy, we're not doing that." 

Garth looked like he might cry. "Ash, I know you've had your share of troubles. I get it okay. And Dean, I didn't know Dean had the gills but he's still Dean. We can't let them divide us like this, we're family."

"So you're with me, it's all their fault," Ash said uncertainly. 

"Yeah, it's all them, Dick and his crew, spewing their bullshit rhetoric trying to make us afraid of each other just enough that we put up with his bullshit," Garth started to say. 

A look of despair passed over Ash's face, then he raised the taser and fired. 

* * *   
3 Hours  
* * * 

Dean groaned as he opened his eyes. 

"Wake up sleeping beauty," Donna said, shining a bright light into Deans eyes. Dean squinted but she pried his eyelid open one by one, checking his pupils. "You okay to move?" 

"How long was I out for?" 

"Two maybe three hours, give or take," Donna stood back as Dean scrambled to his feet. 

"Sam, has he come?" 

Donna shrugged. "Sam? Why would he be here, he's supposed to be with Ruby at the Equator." 

"No, he didn't go, he stayed back, shit where is my phone?" Dean grabbed a hold of it from his pocket. It wouldn't turn on, the taser must've broken it. "Call Sam, ask him if he's here." 

Donna blinked at Dean. "I can't. We're in media lock down. No phones, no internet, approved journalists only." 

"Donna, it's coming, the wave thing," Dean buried his head in his hands. "Cas has a plan, I gotta talk to Cas." 

"Cas is in the deepest lock up we got," Donna stood up, sticking her head out of the corridor. "Jody, get your ass in here!" 

Dean looked around desperately while Jody caught up with Donna on the situation. "Okay, we gotta create a distraction. And I have to get to Cas. Anyone heard from Bobby?" 

"He's been with Dick the whole time," Jody said uneasily. "Anna and Mary are with him so he'll be okay right?" 

Dean frowned. "Get Garth to keep an eye out for Sam. If he gets here ask Garth to bring him in immediately. You can do that for me Jody?" 

"I can do more than that," Jody smiled and looked at Donna then Dean. "I can be your distraction." 

Donna smirked. 

"Oh boy," Donna said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. 

* * *   
2 Hours  
* * * 

Bobby looked furious enough at the fiasco. The circus Donna had created actually bought Dean a one way pass into Bobby's office which had been blocked off as a pseudo green room. Dick in person was shorter and slighter looking than on TV, he had a lean and hungry look, lines under the eyes that never budged when he leered. He gave Dean a real estate agent smile that would have given sharks nightmares, Dean couldn't believe he had once voted for the guy. A lot had changed for Dean since he met Cas. 

"She's a part of Castiel's network," Dean said hesitatingly, his eyes straying to Bobby sitting glumly in a chair, Mary and Anna still flanking him. Mary was staring at Dean, her mouth a thin line. Anna was staring at the monitor which showed a room full of bored looking reporters and an empty stage. 

Donna stepped forward, smiling back at Dick unwaveringly. He frowned. 

"She ran onto the stage waving this around, talking about how your policies are divisive," Dean offered the angelfish pin to Dick. "I tried to stop her but I was a little late."

Dick picked Castiel's pin up from Dean's open palm, looking over the ornate jewel with interest. 

"Good work Mr Winchester, or if I may, Dean," Dick said, real friendly. "I wouldn't worry about Donna's lies, the people in that news pit understand the direction of my government's policies and would never dare report such blatant hysteria." 

"You mean they are handpicked to report the news you want," Bobby said gruffly. 

"There's a traitor in this room, someone who's here to undermine my moment of sincere communication with the people of this city," Dick looked at Bobby pointedly. "Ms Hanscum, care to tell us who that might be?" 

"I only see one treacherous asshat here," Donna grinned. "Everyone else looks legit to me." 

"Ms Hanscum," Dick said caustically, emphasising the tail end of her surname. "Your employment is terminated, your medical registration will be suspended, your tax returns will be examined in minute detail!" 

"And as for you," Dick turned around, pointing security towards her. "Anna Milton of the Seventh Sea, what on earth made you think we wouldn't recognise your beautiful, well publicised face?" 

"I didn't think that," Anna said calmly as Dick's personnel guided her to the door with Donna. "I just needed access to a location you haven't scrambled all communication in. In fact, in the last few minutes or so I've been broadcasting live from this room for the world to see." 

Dean recognised the phone she was holding up. It was like the one Castiel had bade Jack give him to stay in touch. He knew it had Mer tech in it so maybe Anna wasn't just trying to scare Dick. Dick pulled himself up, his back ramrod straight, his facial expression suddenly genial. The facade lasted mere seconds before he pounced for the phone, grabbing it and smashing it into the wall. He stomped on it childishly, coiffed hair flying astray as he clumsily kicked the device around. When it fell to pieces, he looked up and straightened his suit. 

"Mature," Anna said as she was escorted out with Donna. 

"I um better go check on the ringleader," Dean said quietly. 

"All good Dean," Dick gave him a double thumbs up, then ran his hand through his hair. "Tell the makeup and hair crew I need a touch up on your way out will ya?" 

Dean nodded and started to leave with a parting look at Mary and Bobby. 

"So you fire my medic and my head of security in one night?" Bobby said blandly. "Surprised you're not trying to kick Dean out on the curb too. Him being Castiel's honour guard or whatever." 

Dick smirked. "Dean's a go getter. He's special. Who's gonna think Castiel is one of the good guys, if the man who knows him the best says he's an anti-government troublemaker? Heck, Dean doesn't even have to say anything to camera. Just him standing in frame while Castiel is exposed for his lies is enough. Better yet, he can stand next to me. Dean Winchester, the best of humanity, the every man. So masculine, so simple, so delicious." 

"That sure is me," Dean said weakly. 

Bobby rolled his eyes and Dean gave Dick an awkward nod as he ducked out of the door, the bile still rising in his throat. 

"I'll go meet Dean outside the detention tank," Bobby said. "Make sure he gets back in time for the news conference." 

"I'll accompany you," Mary stood up, quietly following Bobby out. "It might get wild out there, you might need me." 

Dick was staring at his own reflection, directing his hair stylist with his hands, the 'go on' muffled in his mouth as the makeup artist powdered his maw. 

Bobby and Mary exchanged a relieved glance and slipped out of the green room as quickly as they could. 

* * * 

Jody gave Dean the pass to Castiel's cell. 

"Anna will get Donna out, who's your buddy?" Dean hissed as he passed her. 

"Going on a curfew check for the freight ferry," Jody said nonchalantly. "Actually taking all the MAPS people with me, seeing as Mayor Roman wanted his own people running the show here." 

Dean raised his eyebrows at her. "The ferry?" 

"Yeah, it might deviate a little off course tonight? Say as many nautical miles as it can do before the big splash." 

"Did Cas tell you the ferry would be a good escape route?" Dean gasped. "He made me park my car on it. He knew. He wanted to save my baby!" 

Jody smiled broadly at Dean. "He's real sweet on you isn't he. Gotta go, boat to catch." 

Dean pocketed the pass and walked determinedly towards the detention cells. 

* * *   
1 Hour  
* * * 

"Some prince you turned out to be," Dean said exasperated. 

Castiel leaned against the bars on the holding cell. He wasn't submerged in the tank available behind him, Dean was grateful to Jo for that, he hoped she would get on the ferry with Jody. Dean was hoping everyone would, come to think of it, Ash included. It had been hard to face the raw hysterical anger. Dean regretted never asking Ash about why he felt the way he did. There had been so many opportunities but instead Dean had squandered every single one of those. Had spent his time projecting this image of himself as so assured in his own ordinariness. Until of course Castiel showed him just how extraordinary he really is. He wondered if he hand't known it himself deep down all along, had been afraid of it until now. When he had gilled out in front of his MAPS colleagues he didn't feel like a freak. They hadn't looked at him with that cool professional attitude that they'd been trained to use when a Mer was exposed. Garth had been shocked, Ash was furious, Asa was astounded but no-one was unmoved. No one had been cold and calm about it. That's how Dean knew they weren't too far gone on prejudice. He had been that way himself, as much as Ash had shown, he had watched, stood by, enforced the laws that were enacted supposedly for the protection of humans that were completely lacking in humanity. Laws people like Dick had put through, legislating fear mongering in the guise of democratic will. 

Dick had built a wall in people's heads. A symbol to convince them that anything external was a threat. Held them hostage within the circle of his so called protection. Why would the wall be there if there was nothing to fear. We are afraid so we need it ever more. Round and round in circles. 

Dean had built a wall around himself. Within himself. At first it kept him safe, but then it held him prisoner. Now as he laid eyes on Castiel, he felt it crumbling to dust. A surge of heat bloomed in his chest, as he looked at his dark blue eyed love. 

"Some prince you are," Castiel said, languid and full of awe. 

He drew himself up from the cell floor and kissed Dean through the bars. Their fingers mingling as Dean fumbled to uncuff him, tangling together and pulling apart only to allow Castiel to step out of the cell. 

"You are so beautiful," Castiel said, touching his hand tenderly to Dean's fully flared gills. "Just a little more, for me, for Sam."

Dean held himself still, he looked at the interrogation tank. 

"I wanna try something, Cas. You gonna help me?" 

* * * 

0 Hours

* * *

"I've never been in one of these myself," Dean said. "Didn't like operating it much either, but I have used it on folk. More than once." 

Castiel was biting his lip, he looked more uncertain than Dean had ever seen him. "I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with the notion of torturing you." 

"It's not, you're not gonna hurt me okay. I just need to remember. I gotta shift, if I do, I can save Sam!" 

"I can arrange for someone else to be tethered to Sam," Castiel said pressing the button for inundation with a hesitant hand. "Not your job to save the world Dean." 

"Well, sounded like it is," Dean said a little curtly, standing inside the tank, his own voice echoing back at him. The rising water was making him nervous. The deluge was always low because a slow and steady saturation was more likely to induce shifting, psychologically it was harder on the recipient too. Dean regretted every single dunking he'd ever done in that moment. 

"Sounded like there's a prophecy and I'm gonna have to save the freaking world," Dean said. 

"Only if you want to," Castiel gave Dean a gentle smile. "Before I met you, again, I never thought for a second that some true heir of Atlantis even existed. That's for the movies and comic books. So I had no one else to rely on except the support of my friends. We've been busy Dean. For over a decade we built up our alliance, but more than political affiliation, we appealed to every single Mer, Cepha, all the dwellers and folks we could reach. We asked them to come ashore, we appealed to each one on their own principals and values. We don't have the tech to do anything other than physical extraction from the tide. We don't have the military strength to fight Michael and his beliefs. All we had was the individual choice. One Mer can carry one person. That is all. But you know what the miraculous thing is... there is enough now. There are enough of us here to save everyone." 

Dean stared at Castiel, forgetting the waist high water line. "The refugees, the arrivals, they're here to help?" 

"Every single one," Castiel said. "That's why we came." 

"It wasn't an invasion, it was a rescue mission," Dean's gills flared again, overcome with emotion. "The explosions, they are to scare people away from the forecast disaster zones." 

"And to make the escape channel," Castiel nodded. 

Dean pressed his hand to the tank wall. "You did good Cas." 

Castiel smiled and placed his hand on the glass. "You don't have to do this Dean, not right now. There's no single heroic action that you have to perform to make you a good person. We don't make huge earth shattering changes, we do a little better everyday." 

"It's okay, I think I can breathe through the gills," Dean looked around the water lapping up over his neck, little bubbles expelled as he spoke. "Ohh looking at that makes me feel a little queasy." 

"Tap the glass when you want out, I got my finger on the release button," Castiel said, his eyes locked on Dean, his hand gesturing to Dean's soaked pants. "Come on, tap it now, you're not doing anything in there." 

"Oh you'll see me do freaking awesome things down there," Dean gurgled. "I'm gonna get the biggest, most beautiful tail that'll make you beg to just touch ..." 

Castiel shook his head as Dean floundered under the water, instinctively floating face upward till the ankle straps kicked in. Dean tried not to panic as the water seeped into his lungs. He could feel the coldness of it slithering into his chest but his gills were working, he didn't know how, but he wasn't hurting. As the water rushed into his ears and over his eyes, a sort of calmness overcame him. He wondered if he was drowning but then realised he could see and hear better beneath the water. 

"Seven minutes, see if I tail out," he called out to Castiel and to his shock what emerged from him was a sing song vocalisation. The tank had a failsafe which kicked in after seven minutes because no human would last past that. 

Castiel watched Dean with anxious eyes. Dean could hear him talk on the other side of the glass. "You're okay Dean, just relax and breathe. Three more minutes." 

Dean stared at Castiel's concerned face. The bright eyes, the tired taint of exhaustion beneath them, the subtle lines in the skin, all the minute imperfections that brought together the mesmerisingly beautiful whole. This man, alone, was saving an entire city. Maybe he would save the whole human race. Castiel wasn't royal, wasn't a prince, wasn't some long lost siren, wasn't even Mer but to Dean he was more than any of those things. He was good will and determination. He was the one people chose to follow, the one who was unifying one perishing species to save another self-exterminating species. 

Dean was still staring at Castiel when the tank alarm went off, then the water drained and he was left a sodden heap at the bottom. Coughing out seawater as he inexpertly switched back to breathing air. His legs stubborn, strapped and completely unchanged. 

"So new plan?" 

Castiel pulled Dean out of the tank. "We need to get Sam to the swamps." 

* * *


	29. The End

Dean had never ridden a motorcycle that moved so fast in his entire life. He could feel the rumble in Castiel's chest as he breathed deeply to counter the adrenaline of the breakneck speed. Dean latched his arms even tighter around Castiel, what a loose canon Cas was, so human. Dean laughed at himself inside his bike helmet at the thought. He wasn't sure what he was anymore himself, but finding out about Castiel's human side totally made sense. Castiel's impulsive, fickle nature and his grand schemes were all so fundamentally human. Cas was scrappy, he was a fighter and Dean liked that, a lot. Now Castiel was fighting against time and the rising wind which made the bike sway a little too hard around sharp turns. Dean could see as they made for the apartment building the part of the seawall that had been blown away by Anna. The tide looked surprisingly low, exposing miles and miles of sand. The bones of old ship parts and dumped white goods glittered under the full bright moon. The sea looked parched. The wind howled through the gap, bringing with it a tangy salty smell with a sulfurous note. 

Thankfully Sam was standing dutifully in front of the building. His face a little paler than usual. 

"I got Donna's message to meet you at MAPS but they have the whole suburb blocked off. No one in or out without the right paperwork," Sam said urgently. "What on earth is going on Dean?" 

Dean grabbed Sam into a bearhug, Castiel was still on the motorbike, the engine running. 

"You got your ride here?" Dean asked. 

Sam nodded, gesturing at the bicycle leaning against a street tree. 

"Really, Sammy?" Dean slapped his hand over his eyes. "End of the world and you decide to eco-warrior your way around on a pedal bike?" 

"It has 16 gears," Sam said defensively. "The four wheel drive is with Eileen. Wait, did you say end of the world?" 

Castiel raised a gloved finger and took out his cell and tapped on the screen. Sam jumped when his phone started ringing in his pocket. Dean could hear a cacophony of ringtones rising over the sound of the motorcycle's engine. It was deafening. After a minute or so the noise died down. Sam was staring at his phone. 

"You got 26 notifications?" Dean whistled. 

"I have a notification for every app I use," Sam blinked at his screen. He opened his text message and a video popped up. 

"Hello, I am Castiel, Jimmy Novak, Doctor Emmanual Milton, insert your preferred alias. Some time ago you provided your contact details for the Mer mating trials. Or you are within the radius of our emergency broadcast network. We would like to notify you of a natural wave surge that is on its way to your current location. Do not fret, help is on the way. There will be an assigned aquatically capable individual making their way to your GPS location right now. Please cooperate with your survival extraction volunteer. This link will provide you with your assigned contact's current position as well as a map of the anticipated strike zones for the waves."

Dean could see the windows of the sleeping city light up like stars. People were getting on their balconies and looking out towards the sea. There were people coming out of buildings, walking calmly across the roads. One of Dean's neighbours, a friendly lady who Dean knew was called Lisa was making her way down the lobby. Inias their building security guard waved at her, she looked up from the phone she held in her hands. He smiled, all dimples and shyly showed her his gills under his collar. She took his hand and they started walking towards the harbour. 

"My link shows that my assigned contact is Ruby," Sam frowned. "But I just spoke to her, she's with Eileen right now, miles away." 

"Yeah, about that, we have to get you to the exclusion zone, there's people that can help us there," Dean started to say but Castiel was revving the engine on the motorbike. Looked like they were running out time. "Uh, how fast can your bicycle go?" 

"Well your bike's pretty loaded down with your ass and Cas so I say I'll give you guys a head start?" Sam strapped on his bicycle helmet, his long locks flowing out under the rim of the protective head gear. He pulled the strands to the back into a loose pony tail, tucking the long bits under a side helmet strap. He clipped into his peddles, head down like he really meant business. 

Dean gave Sam a nod, hopped back on behind Castiel and they took off in the direction of the swamps, Sam peddling like the wind. 

* * * 

"I can't take him, I have my tentacles filled with human fry," Meg stood perched on the top of the Mer dance club building and true to her word she held a young woman in a nursing unifrom in her arms and four of her eight tentacles were looped through baby car capsules. The rest of her was firmly wrapped around the main structural beam of the building. 

The nurse turned frantic eyes to Sam. "I got the message on my phone. I was at work in the newborn ward. These children were flown in yesterday, they were meant to be adopted out tomorrow. Their new parents haven't been notified yet and I just put them in my car and came as fast as I could. My manager is going to kill me, I haven't done all the paperwork to sign them out of the hospital yet, everyone was just walking out, no one would sign off on anything!" 

"What's your name?" Sam asked gently. "I know it's kind of a weird night." 

"Jessica Moore, my friends call me Jess."

"Well Jess, Meg here is a real survivor, she was second in the Mer trials you probably saw her on TV right. Meg will make sure you and the babies are okay and tomorrow when this is all over we can call the hospital and explain what happened. I'm sure they would rather you save the kids than leave them there." 

"Yeah, I wasn't just going to leave them behind," Jessica squared her shoulders. "So this wave, it's going to do a lot of damage right? People are going to need first aid. Meg you gotta get us through this, there are gonna be people who'll need a nurse." 

"Sure thing honey," Meg drawled. "Now where did I leave the chains, whole damned club full of gear and the one time you need leather binding there's none to be found." 

Sam gave Jessica an encouraging smile and strode back to Dean. "Meg's not available but she did give me this hip harness. Says she thinks it'll help." 

Dean was gazing at swamp city in speechless amazement. 

"Dick went on this rant in the newspapers about how savage the Mer are, just look at their flimsy architecture, all rotting timber and recycled posts," Dean stared at the cobbled together structures. "But this was never meant to be a city, it's not some monument to hail the glory of a tyrant, it's one huge life raft." 

"It will splinter into sections and we have key personnel in charge of steering each part. Meg is the captain for this zone. There are also self contained pieces, thousands of them with assigned Mer who will mop up anyone who comes loose," Castiel said proudly. "Actually Sam, you had a hand in the design." 

Sam slapped Castiel on the back. "That time you asked me to come up with a design for an unsinkable life raft in exchange for coral cove home brew!" 

"We upscaled the design somewhat." Castiel's face broke into a huge smile when he saw a group of familiar faces. 

"We're all ready to go, the outposts have detected the first wave, passing through the island checkpoints," Hannah said by way of greeting. 

Gadreel stood beside her, giving Castiel a firm squeeze on his elbow. 

"The life raft convoy is ready too Commander," Samandriel said, his gills flared out. Dean could see Samandriel was followed by a large number of Mer, some of whom Dean recognised as Uriel's flock. Zachariah was absent, that probably made convincing them to help easier for Samandriel. 

"Good work," Castiel said. 

Samandriel looked at Dean, his face reddening a little. "Some of these Mer would like a blessing from their prince." 

Dean looked at Castiel expectantly but Castiel stepped back. 

"It's good luck to have a kind word from a traditional figurehead," Castiel said into Dean's ear. "You wanna say something?"

Dean scratched his neck and looked at the hurried faces standing around, waiting. "Look, I'm glad you guys are here to help, I'm sorry we haven't always treated you right. Just, good luck and see you all later okay?" 

Dean hissed to Castiel. "Do I have to kiss them on the forehead or something? Say may the Force be with you?" 

Castiel laughed. "No. Still not in Star Wars. Let's catch up at the rendezvous point." 

"Who's gonna take care of Sam?" Dean asked after Castiel spoke to Mary and Bobby on his bat phone. Or at least that's how Dean thought of it, seeing as it could breach Dick's media blackout. 

"There's only one Mer I trust to save Sam," Castiel said, his hand on Dean's shoulder. 

* * * 

They stood shoulder to shoulder, Dean and Sam tethered together, Castiel beside them. 

"You can do this," Castiel said gravely to Dean, tying the last knot that held Sam in place. 

"Can I get a ..." Dean turn awkwardly towards Castiel. "A good luck kiss?" 

Sam rolled his eyes but helpfully leaned a little more out of the way. Castiel gave Dean a chaste peck on the forehead. Dean nodded and mumbled "Thanks." 

Castiel sighed and put his hand on Dean's chest, tipping his mouth up for a long and deep kiss. 

Sam looked down at his watch muttering: "Wish the wave was here already. Oh, actually..."

Dean looked up to see the very edge of the night sky blackening. He realised that he couldn't see the city skyline anymore. The wind went still then slowly began to pick up, accelerating and turning ferocious within seconds. Castiel's trenchcoat flared out behind him and Dean grabbed a hold of Sam. The shadow of it grew quickly, the water looked black and towered over them, like a mountain dropping out of the sky. Everyone braced them selves and Dean turned to see Castiel hold his blade out. His arm going behind his back in a lightning motion as he inserted the blade at the root of his spine. The silver puddled out like a flood and enveloped Castiel's legs in glittering scales, lush fins blossomed over the crevices and extended out over his feet into a dazzling tail. 

"Your turn," Castiel winked at Dean and dove headfirst into the wave, fast as an arrow. 

Dean seized up. Sam was clinging onto him for dear life and though Dean felt strong and he knew his gills would kick in and work, Sam was tall and huge. Dean shut his eyes and turned them so that the wave would break over his back rather than Sam's. Then it was oblivion and crashing weight. 

Dean opened his eyes. He could see and hear under the water. Though he couldn't tell which way was up and which was down. He still hadn't tailed out. Sam was unconscious in his arms, Dean could feel his heartbeat against where they were tethered together but Sam had definitely been knocked out by the weight of the wave. There were all sort of debris in the water, though thankfully the bulk of the timber city was gone, hopefully floating aloft at the top of the wave, whichever way that was. 

Castiel was swimming in circles around them, putting himself between Dean and Sam and every obstacle. He opened his mouth and vocalised sharply. Dean understood it to mean that he had to let himself float to work out which was was up. Dean tried it, but all he seemed to do was sink and he could tell Sam wasn't going to last much longer. Castiel grabbed him by the shoulder, he was clawed out and the sting of the nails made Dean a little more alert. Dean watched in horror as Castiel reached down his other hand to his own tail. The scales shimmered over his lower half, melting and reforming into the blade. As soon as Castiel lost his fins, he was struggling to hold onto Dean. Dean tried to grab him back but Castiel was wriggling hard, climbing over to Sam's side and stabbing the blade right into his back. The silver spread out again, covering Sam and forming a tail on him, glistening droplets crawled up Sam's back and dripped back into the crevice of his neck, splitting the flesh into gills. Dean could see the newly formed organ's working and Castiel cut through the tether with his claws and the last of his strength. Sam went floating, buoyed by his tail, his eyes still screwed shut but the nanos seemed to know what to do and were bringing him to the surface. 

Dean reached for Castiel but the human had grown too weak to hold on. Castiel's gills flared and he slipped away into a darkened patch of whirling plastic. Dean still couldn't swim, but he kicked his legs and tried to sink his way down to Castiel. The shredded strands clogging up his gills and the bulbous bags blocking Castiel from view. Dean could see Castiel fighting against the velocity of the water, his hand reached out, his coat falling open like wings. Then a piece of metal came whirling through the water and sliced right into the side of his head. The blood splattering into the water in crimson jets. Dean shouted. The sound cut through the wave and shattered it, opening up a gap where Dean could see Castiel and swim towards him. Dean's hand was around Castiel's scalp pressing down on the wound, his mouth blowing a thick blanket of oxygen bubbles into Castiel's gills, his tail propelling them towards the surface with powerful flicks. There was bright circle of light up ahead now and Dean swam towards it, holding Castiel in his arms. When they surfaced, Dean realised it was the moon, hanging low and bright in the sky. Though they were miles from it, it looked like they were in the middle of the ocean, water as far as the eye could see. There were no more landmarks to distinguish where they were, far off Dean thought he saw the gigantic shape of floating Mer vessels. 

Dean found a piece of driftwood, fibre-cast sign for Mer Exclusion Zone, and carefully laid Castiel over it. He tore Castiel's tie off his neck with his teeth and tied it around Castiel's head, to stem the ooze from the wound. It was bleeding sluggishly and didn't look nearly as severe as Dean had thought. Castiel was breathing now, his hand grasping onto Dean's as his eyes fluttered open. 

"Let me see," he said hoarsely. "Please, Dean." 

Dean lifted his tail out of the water shyly. It was mermaid green, with gold and aqua reflected in the webbing of the fins, a blush of rose gold touching the edges of the silver webbing. 

"Knew it would be fucking pretty," Castiel mumbled. "Go, grab Sam, we'll be dragged out to sea soon." 

Dean dashed back into the water and with his tail did a quick circle around the raft. Sam was floating, face up, his tail flicking like a nervous tick, his eyes wide. 

"This is so cool," he said when Dean grabbed a hold of him. "I gotta change my dissertation." 

Dean had just enough time to get Sam rolled over and holding on to the floating sign. He half climbed, half flopped onto it, arching his back protectively over Castiel. Then the surge came. All the water sped up and began to rush towards the harbour, they were carried with the current, at a speed that felt akin to flying. More waves came in the opposing direction and broke violently midair but they were smaller and with the three of them gilled out posed no real danger. There ride wasn't comfortable and Dean wondered if it would be ridiculous for a Mer to get sea sick but they did eventually slow down. They were a few miles out in the harbour judging by the remnants of footings of the destroyed wall. Dean looked around him, the harbour was full of rafts. Out in the open ocean the Mer city was floating, mammoth and slowly rejoining together. Dean could see familiar faces in the rafts around them. One held Benny and Andrea. She was in the water with two little toddlers, all three of them tailed out and swimming strongly. Benny was sitting inside the raft with a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier. He smiled at Dean as they drifted past, relief at seeing them apparent on his face. The sound of jet skis drew Dean's attention. Charlie slowed down as she neared them. Dean could see another one doing the rounds on the outer perimeter, taking people ashore. 

"Hey Dean, how's it hanging?" Charlie said. "Does Cas need medical assistance? There's a nurse on the Mer station, I can get him there in a jiffy." 

"I'll be fine," Castiel said. "If I need anything Dean can get me there just as quickly." 

Charlie's eyes rounded. "No way, lemme see!" 

Dean sighed and swished his tail real quick. 

"Sparkly!" Charlie said. "Oh wow, Dean, you gotta let me take a photo for my next journal publication! Man, Kevin is going to pass out when he sees how gorgeous you are. He's got a real thing for rare fin colours. Academically speaking." 

"Go save some people will ya?" Dean waved her off. 

Castiel reached into his pockets and produced his cell, he opened it and checked his messages. 

"Hannah, Gadreel, Samandriel and Meg have joined up the frigate. Your mother and Bobby are checking submerged sites for survivors in the submarine. Dick's press conference was a washout, he left by helicopter but the reporters are fine, Anna evacuated them with Donna. Jody has everyone in MAPS on a ferry. The Sea Witch is doing the rounds in the open sea in case of anyone making it past our rescue nets. Dean the numbers are coming in, I think we're going to be dealing with minimal injuries and fatalities." 

"I want your head checked," Dean eased the cell out of Castiel's head. "You can work later. Thanks to you, all the people I care about are fine. You better be fine too." 

"I've been through worse," Castiel sounded confident. "But you're right, after this we're taking a vacation." 

"Yeah, Cas, time to show me those breeding coves," Dean was out of the water and draped over Castiel by this point, his tail soaking through Castiel's pants. 

Sam made a sound from the side of the raft. 

"Guys, do you want me to give the tail back to Cas so you guys can swim off somewhere more, uh, private?" 

Dean flapped his hand in Sam's direction. His mouth was busy. Sam grunted and started working the hybrid tail as best as he could to push Dean and Cas towards the shore. 

* * * 

TWO WEEKS LATER 

* * * 

"This is where the breeding cove is?" Dean swam abreast of Castiel, he was staring at the sights ahead. "You gotta be kidding me. I think I see Tom Hanks' mansion." 

"Tom Hanks doesn't live in Cape Cod," Castiel said. "He was just in that movie where the mermaid comes form Cape Cod." 

"So you finally watched it?" Dean grinned. "What's your favourite part? Gotta be when she goes shopping right?" 

"I liked the part where they swim into the sunset together," Castiel said. 

Dean grinned at Castiel. "Yeah, alright Cas, don't get too romantic on me." 

"I won't," Castiel said, his face bathed in the gold sunlight. "The truth is there isn't a traditional breeding cove that we can access. None of them are in the alliance zone. This is the best I can do at short notice. I thought you might like this location since you liked that film." 

"Yeah I get it. Michael and Naomi have most of the ocean. My mom and dad seem to be separated even though they are supposedly bonded for life. We don't know what caused the tsunami and we think that there's Mer tech involved. Is Chuck even your real dad, is he some divine creator? This isn't a neat little happy ending but you know what?" 

Dean pressed his palm to Castiel's cheek. "You're it for me, be all and end all."

Castiel groaned but Dean felt the twist of his tail around his, beneath the tideline. 

"You're my happy ending, Cas." 

"I think I threw up in my mouth." 

"Let me check," Dean whispered. 

"Disgusting, convincing, seductive," Castiel murmured and gave in. 

There would be a quiet rented villa for the evening. A hammock strung up between palm trees. Brunch with eggs brimming with soft yolks. Respite and time to themselves. 

"Do you remember your promise?" Dean tore himself away from Castiel's lips momentarily. "You said you'd show me Mer stamina and strength. You said you would mate me for days and days." 

"Oh the prolonged copulation," Castiel smiled innocently. "Yes, that's certainly a Mer thing." 

Dean groaned in bliss, towing Castiel into the shallows. "I can't wait." 

"Me too," Castiel leered. "But don't forget, you're the Merman."

Dean paused, realisation hitting him. It had been weeks since he had been able to shift. It never came easily but he could just manage it on queue now. He was still reeling from the changes in his body. Still getting accustomed to what he could do. There's still so much he didn't know. 

"I can show you a thing or two about mer biology," Castiel said magnanimously. "How things work, which parts tickle." 

Dean leaned back, settling his tail over a submerged sand bar. Castiel swam over the top of him, pressing him into the soft kelp bed. The water ran cool and sweet into Dean's gills. Castiel cooed and began to play. 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this story! I can’t believe how long it got and how long it took. Thanks fo your patience! 
> 
> I stated out thinking this will be a quick AU of merman Cas meets human Dean and then they like each other, cue cute cultural clash moments. 6 months and 90K words later, I still have a lot of head canons about where their story goes next. What the villains are up to. How they grow and develop through their relationship. So maybe, at some future date, when I feel up to revisiting I’ll do a post script or a update so we see a bit further into their future together. 
> 
> Some other stuff I’ve written:
> 
>  
> 
> Something more substantial: Altered Carbon Destiel AU (long, sci-fi) 
> 
> Twisted Fibre https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347767
> 
> Something light and playing with canon verse: 
> 
> Dean And Cas Go To Ikea https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732702 
> 
> Dean And Cas Get A Divorce https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337147
> 
> Something light and AU: 
> 
> Dean And Cas Work At Lush (possessive Cas) https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326916
> 
> Dean And Cas Meet On Tinder https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705484


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